{"text": "Lonely mornings, Busy nights. The stars twinkling in sheer delight Mocking the girl on the edge of the cliff, She thinking for one reason to live. The dark dike seems to pull her towards it, As if offering,'your pain will be over in a bit'. The life on the other side, Whispering into her ear, that everything will be alright. The death overbearing her will to live, Dieing everyday, or die at once? And once again a beautiful life into darkness wept, Expecting to be in a better place than the world she left."}
{"text": "She cries and cries, Her eyes full of demise. And she wants to stop, Reminding herself how tough she is, But the sobbing goes on, As she abruptly presses her hand hard against her lips, Taking deep breaths in-sync suppressing the pain As it makes its way through the dark cirles of her eye lane, The pearl absorbing itself into the white pillow As she slowly wins the fight, Darkness gathers around her eyes, And comforts her into a better world for the night."}
{"text": "A kite I am, Made of just paper and sticks, I am tossed into the sky, To reach heights and cut others of my kind, I stay still, And move in the direction of the wind, And sometimes I want to reach higher above the sky But the strings, They pull me back the more I try, Realising the flight isn't my own, I sigh. Let me go, and set me free I say to the other of my kind As they help me Cutting away those strings that pull me back. I fall down and down, Happy though, As this fall I am having Is my very own, I smile as the wind blows me away to some random place, And I retire to the ground of some unknown valley with grace."}
{"text": "The fan on the ceiling was a matter of interest. The arrangement consisted of me and my brother being the veggie in the sandwich of mom and dad. I wonder if that was the reason I don't have any other sibling because we did a perfect job of being the kabab in the haddi, plus we were pain in the ass. No doubts in that. At times I would lay on the bed like an octopus, having my hands and legs all around the bed, just admiring the fan. How it revolved so fast and speedy. I would sometimes try to count the turns but then the fan went too fast. Sometimes I would just turn the switch on and off to see how the hook of the fan made a movement and made a click sound. It was the winters when the house maid did the discovery of the fan not working anymore when she switched it on, for the wet floor.The fan had no respect in winters hence, the matter wasn't look upon. That year the summers came early, so now the fan was required. Dad was a super genius, he would manage to get things working with the standard twelve knowledge of science he had. But this time, his knowledge failed and a proper electrician(mistri uncle as we called him) was called for. Mistri Uncle not only made the fan work on the touch of his screwdriver, but also gave it a tinge of modification. But now it had some issues. ~issue no. 1: It would run faster than ever. ~if you're wondering why issue no.1 is a issue, here's issue number 2: The regulator won't work. The fan would look murderous to me now. It was so speedy now that everytime a wave of wind came, it would shake crazy and make me think it is going to fall. In our sandwich arrangement the three foot me, couldn't sleep. I would keep asking Dad if the fan would fall. He would just tell me to shut my mouth and sleep. Unfortunately, shutting my mouth won't shut my thoughts. If the fan fell, will I loose my hand or my legs? Or eyes? No no not eyes! Would I be able to call the ambulance if the fan fell? Wait! What's the number of the ambulance? I would have asked Dad if he wasn't snoring already. If the fan fell, will it kill brother? Woah then I can have the television all for myself! Naah naah that's a sinful thought, I love my brother. He's a bastard though. Why is the fan's speed increasing? I am dead. Harpes playing, me ascending through the stairs of heaven (the same tom went into). Me:l Was I a good human? Haddi mera baddi: Fuck off! You're just dreaming. Me: Shh don't use bad words. I will tell mom."}
{"text": "Is it just me, or is it the sky, Grieving with my grief and pain Or the citylights, Shining in the dark Telling me 'uhh it's okay to be in the dark, but remember to shine soon'. ."}
{"text": "Who are you? Are you the sunlight peeking through my curtains, Trying to wake me up, Forcing me for a fresh start.  Who are you? Are you the little kid in me, Who wants to have Chocolates and candies for a birthday treat.  Who are you? Are you the blue sky, Weaving me dreams of the world more to discover, Dreams of flying higher until I finally disappear into the mist.  Who are you? Are you the pillow under my head, Who knows all the pains I am trying to forget.  Who are you? Are you the lonely star in the galaxy, Trying to tell me, I am not the only one left behind in this universe. Who are you? Are you the beautiful rain, Touching my cheeks gently, As you wipe away my pain.  Who are you? Are you my diary, Hidden deep inside my closet, That knows me better than I know myself.  Who are you? Are you the moon, Which follows me sometimes, Accompanying me through, When am out in the night.  Who are you? Are you the citylights? The lights that look serene in the dark, Making me stop for a bit to remark.  Who are you? I want to know, Cause you're around my head wherever I go."}
{"text": "Lead me on, will you? I no more know my way back to the valley, A hand and a lamp is all it takes, Hold me tight, Tight enough to form a vacuum, Cause the roads is slippery all the way.  Dance with me, will you? The stardust over our shoulders And your hand in mine With the fireflies cheering us to this night And it feels better than the daylight.  Will you be my sky? I want to notic e every color of you, Be you the shiny day,a beautiful shade of blue Or the grey sky, the rain doplets resting on leaves like dew.  Love me, will you? And lead me through."}
{"text": "I see you everywhere, From the morning coffee To the late nights, until I am drunk with beer."}
{"text": "I have seen this girl in school, big glasses and oily skin, some pimples adding to the beauty. She sits alone all the time. Her nose into the book she reads all the time. Sometimes it’s a green diary which says ‘believe in yourself’ but I don’t really think that makes any change.  Her eyes are silent as if she’s burring a storm within. She laughs like an idiot sometimes, looks cute though, cause she is more happy inside the book seeing Jacob doing comedy for Bella, than the world outside. I bet she thought they’ll end up together. She seems this romantic type.  Her eyes would sometimes travel around the room, seeing everyone happy in their own loom. It seems like she’s always searching for something. Even the moment when she’s with some of her friends, she seems lost, I wonder if you ever noticed that. The way her spectacles always slide down through the bridge of her nose ,or is it just a way she tries to look busy and happy. She is happy though, in the world of her own, but it doesn’t help her from escaping the reality. I am unsure of whether she is trying to show the world that she doesn’t give a damn or she’s just trying to reassure herself that she is ‘happy’ alone.  She reaches home and just falls on the bed, staring at the fan as if it is the most interesting kind of revolutions of the blades. In the evening she gets up, dresses into black t-shirt tucked in the black jeans, black is definitely her colour. Walking through the streets, embracing everything she can see, kids playing, the old aunties chattering, teenagers hanging around.  And the thing that hurts her the most, was never being understood. Pretending was never easy. Is it? And I think that’s what her eyes look around for in the room. Someone who can really understand her . A lover? Not necessary. Just someone who cares, someone who stays , a constant. And for all of you who think, I am this crazy stalker. Well I am not. I am the person she’s always searching for. Someone who cares. A constant.(just a small flaw ,she doesn’t know me yet). Well now I definitely sound like a stalker. Never mind."}
{"text": "Lone.  It's past midnight, as I walk through this empty street. The sky at it's darkest shade of black, and the streets made of bricks and pebbles. The surroundings empty and silent, and the only voice of my boots thrashing on the stone pebbles and my own breath. The moon gleaming it's dim light through the dark path, being the only source of light, in this night. I hitch my coat tighter, tightening the buckle around my waist, to prevent the cold without from entering my system. I hear something walking with me.A person maybe? I turn around to realize a man, standing in a rag jacket and black teeth, lighting a cigar through his long fingers, smiling slyly at me. He glances at me from up to down, without any movement.I could feel my backbone shiver, from cold or fear I am yet to know. I walk fast now, the sound of my steps almost resonanting with the sound of my heart beat. He does the same, walks faster and faster with my pace. And now I realize it's time to run. I run now as the best I could, gripping my frock up so that I don't stumble. This time, the sandals, betray my trust as I fall down on the stony street. I could hear the footsteps nearing me as I have held my breath tight, I want to move, get up and run but I feet refuse to move, as I feel this searing pain around my ankles. When I open my eyes, it's the morning light, and with my astonishment I am on this bed, as soft as the dove's feather. I move to get up soon to realize the agonizing pain around my ankles. A lady walks in the room, with a bowl in her tray. Daughter, we found you as cold as ice sleepbounded on our threshhold. I made some soup, would you want to try?"}
{"text": "'Universe' Ever thought how amazing it would be if you can get into one's mind? And know it's a universe of thoughts, memories. Happiness and pains. And it's like a movie worth watching sometimes. Knowing a person to the fullest is close to impossible, cause there and unlimited shades of a single person. You never know, what you're capable of."}
{"text": "During the trojan wars, it's said that that if you disrespect the Gods they curse you. I have read a book named 'Troy' in which Aphrodite just because she got bored, made people fall in love-that are technically enemies and not neccessary with each other. Sometimesshe would bind people in love triangles. The idea is so wonderful in itself. Ever wondered about the possibility? Like you're cursed to fall in love with someone and not get the same love back?? Never thought? Think about it."}
{"text": "Once she danced in the melody of her dreams, Like a butterfly in the sweet garden of wishes, Humming to her favourite song. She wanted to dance with the wind and sleep with the stars, But the thread tied to her leg Pull her back everytime she tried to go further, In the end she retired to her faith. But she still danced like a butterfly , This time in the graveyard of her dreams Until death cradled her into his arms. But still she danced, free this time."}
{"text": "I wonder if the star around the south corner that I can always admire through my bedroom window knew me, and he always felt lonely. I knew it, because I was lonely as well. Did it ever feel jealous when everyone was busy talking about the moon? Was that the reason it disappeared this one day? No no shh.. there got to be more reasons to it, untold and unseen, hidden under some closet like my diary, things that just he knows. And now maybe, we'll never know.Did he knew he was loved? Maybe not. Cause actions count right? Maybe my voice never reached.But he was supposed to know."}
{"text": "People don't change, They just show their true self- with time. It's just that when you're in love, we ignore the flaws and look on to the beautiful side. We ignore the worst, and it looks like a fairy tale. The world isn't a fairytale after all. It's dark, hopeless and uncertain with nothing real in it to cling. So be truthful to one another. Cause fairytales end soon. Forever is a myth. Nothing lasts forever itself. You need to make it last."}
{"text": "There's this time, you're just living. You have an empty mind which is basically a house for demons to push you into overthinking. You regret everything you've done till now. You think maybe, if that day had I done a little more, it would've been different . Better? You just sink deeper into the thoughts and there is just a tornado going inside of you, killing you little by little. And anyone who asks you 'Are you okay?' You just don't want to start nagging about your problems or waste time into telling them everything cause you know it won't make a difference. Some people are there, important to you, but you just push them off, you don't want them to get hurt in the hell of your painful words. You push them until they go distant and far and you just wish, they shouldn't have listened to you. Maybe just stayed a little longer?  Yes, stay a little longer dear. I want you to stay, even when I tell you to practically 'fuck off ' , just keep your ego inside the box of 'it's okay' and stay. Please. Cause there's so much to the silence you can't hear and I wish you could. Never mind. ."}
{"text": "The guy am going to talk about isn't very special to me. He wakes up every morning around eight. I have a strong feeling he is an insomniac since all the night when the world sleeps, I see him awake. Struggling through the walls of his own mind I guess? As far as I have seen him through not many things make him happy, but I would sometimes see him smiling to himself as if thinking about someone really special. Sometimes I would sneak through his phone and see the gallery. I would see no pictures at all, I wonder where he hid them. Some nights feel never ending, all I can see is him, sitting alone. Sometimes tears would come through the corner of his eyes, and I wonder what pain he is hiding through his lies. Sometimes he would feel a complete different personality, the one you see with all, and the one alone. The one I see with people around is different, teaching me the basics of slangs. Happiest in all and I would never see a tiniest hint. The one at home is a bit different. He looks like he's been burdened with a load on his chest, a pressure to be one of the best. The one who's eyes are easy to be read and even the smile is unable to get me convinced, about the stamped. Even when I reach the depth it always feels like a desert oasis,however far I go, I realize it's even farther. He seems like a mystery,a puzzle unsolved. All I know that I've seen him smoke even in pain and I know he's stronger than he seems. Friends and family mean the world to him. Friendship is something he's loosing with time, but I guess that's life. I am just hoping he will be okay soon, for there's a sun after a moon. He doesn't show it when he is hurt but I know he is. I really wish that he shared his pains to someone trustworthy, atleast which makes the weight on his chest reduce...and makes him breathe. To be honest the qualities of him if counted are like the stars over the sky. He burns like them through and I know he's magical too. The only message I want to convey to him,  Sometimes being perfect isn't the best, for imperfections are supposed to be beautiful in itself  It's okay to cry when you're hurt,  And feel not okay at once. I am with you and many more."}
{"text": "The stars in the skies, They speak beautiful lies Of you being mine. I don't blame them though, Cause they learnt from us That promises are made to be broken sometimes. ."}
{"text": "Be with intelligent kids so that you can learn good things from them, not the dumb ones. 🙂 ."}
{"text": "I want you less, I want you more It's an alien feeling I can't deplore A day I want to be yours The second I feel to leave I am like this fire, And you're the fly, I don't want you to burn by. And a zillion dreams I weave, Of this one day we'll be us Without the usual fuss Is it love? Is it love?"}
{"text": "Rains and rains, And I forgot the streets we are standing on, The umbrella that may have flown away long time back, The fact that we are dripping with rain water. Your silly smile and the dimples on your cheeks And those eyes that force me to look into them, You pull me into a kiss, Which lasts like forever And feels infinite. Ye,we are at infinity. You make me feel it. Is it the mix of the ocean and the sea, Or you have cast a spell on me, The rush of ecstasy Your hands so stiff and cold, Wish I curl you up into my whole. I want you heated and warm Until you want me to go far. ~Rain and You."}
{"text": "Running away as fast I could go, From every pain, every emotion, every sorrow. Everything feels so full, the dark sky even full of stars, Yet there's this hollow part. There's nowhere I can stop Nowhere I could go, But then I see this small door, Filled with light and hope, And I realize, it's never too late to cope. Good morning' says the first ray of sun As I sink my way into my thoughts more And dream about the the dress in the changing room I wore."}
{"text": "And the winds blew her away, into eternal sleep falling like a drop of dew from a blessed leaf."}
{"text": "Tum shor kartey aaye the, Pure angan meh khushiyan laaye the, Maa ko bhi rulaye the. Aur abb tum jo gupchup jaa rahe ho Iss baar kisko bata rahe ho? Maa ko phirse rula rahe ho."}
{"text": "The rain washed away bits of me, But left yours in the corner of my mind And I bet the cupids sighed, Hopelessly in love Somewhere believing you're still mine. ~Days when you were mine."}
{"text": "To kiss you was a dream, around the characters whose love stories made me fall in love with love.They being the only spectators of our secret love.  They heard us talk, under the shhss of the library and the compressed laughs to being kicked out for being loud. They witnessed the day, you told me you want to show me something and you lead me to the back of the library,to the boring sections where we hid at the back of the bookshelves.  And you held me through the face as my heartbeat accelerated faster. It went all magical like the fairy tales. Your eyes met mine shortly after your lips did.I said that was really lame. You replied to Next time I will tell you that I will die if I don't kiss you and I guess the books witnessed it. A love story, us just like them. Not written in book but felt. And I realize it's the same story over and over again."}
{"text": "I was in the circle of my thoughts, And you came like a fairy,sprinkling stardust You danced through the tranquil bay Switching me from darkness to all gay. Every memory of you stays still, From the day we plucked stars from the starry night, To the odour of daisies on the cresent hill Searching you where we first met The sad part you know, You were just a tangent. ~Some nerd hopelessly in love."}
{"text": "And I wished the evening would never end."}
{"text": "Knock knock, it's me, Or is it my brain overthinking at it's highest peak, The confusions from he loves me, loves me not? To the Indus Valley Civilization and it's rott. Wandering trom the ocean and it's humongous waves, To the cemetery of dancing graves. Talking about the summer's no tan lotion Extending to the Newton's third law of motion. In the world of is it and is nots, I am a fan of maybes. Living a life in maybes Isn't that bad though, Cause life is uncertain It swings you to and fro Maybe no one knows."}
{"text": "What do you want for your birthday?  asked he. Well, let me think. What can you give?  I replied with a malicious smile. Whatever you'd wish for. You know, I don't see stars from here. They say stars are uncountable. But from my terrace, I can only see one.  What a tragedy right? He said sarcastically. Do you see stars from your terrace? Yes, there are many. Bring me some. What? Bring me some stars. I have never seen more than one. I want to.  How?. You asked me what I want. I told you what I do."}
{"text": "Dear Adi, It’s weird to get a letter from your past and it’s weird to write a letter to someone ten years away. We both are weird this way.  So, twenty six huh? How’s life? You’re really looking pretty. I hope someone told you that. And also, I know no one needs to tell you that. So where have you reached? How far?  Do I sound like the neighbourhood aunty calling to know your goddamn result? Maybe I do. But not a  piece of paper this time. You know we are the same. You’re just a better shade of me and I am a lighter shade of you. We both envy each other. Don’t we?  You’d give anything to relax, sleep and be back to the days when  studying was the only tension you possessed  and eat great healthy home food. I would also do anything to get the freedom you’ve  now. Being independent has been one of my dream.  Hey, are you in love yet? I know you’d we laughing at how I am able to connect everything with love.  ‘ Young and in love -with words’ remember this line? I hope you’re in love with someone the same way you’re in love with words. I know you.  Money is earned by everyone. Earn relations. Earn people. Earn love. We don’t stay. Perhaps, we do something that our stories live even after we don’t .  Years after years.  You know, basically I have a rough image of how’d you be. But this letter, is just a reminder to who you are. Before being anything, you’re you, you’re me. So, be it. I  love you.  Cheers to being twenty six. Happy birthday. I can’t say I miss you, cause I have never met you. But I hope you miss me. We can’t even meet, you know. They say it leads to some paradox shit, not that I have time- turner anyway. I hope you are amazing, even if you’re not. You’ll be. (p.s. learnt the word hope from some guy, not that I’d be discussing my love affairs with you) .  ~ The Adi that turned sixteen."}
{"text": "She was like chemistry -full of exceptions"}
{"text": "Even the stars stopped at this random thought, Singing with the crooning bird in the twilight And gushes of wind passing like a radiant storm I wanted to stop it all before, all along, Before the roots sunked deep in heart of tree, And now it's frozen cold and bleak the melody of her song still fills my ear Even on the coldest day of the year. I wanted her more than the song Her and just her All along."}
{"text": "Naam Part - 1 Tum jaa rhi ho? Usne mere hath ko pakadtey hue kaha. Haa jaa rhi hu maine jawab diya. Mat jao nausne dheemi awaz meh jawab diya. Kyu? Bus mat jao. Adi, hamari iss maamle pe pehle bhi baat ho chuki hai and we decided ki akhiri pal ache se bitana hai. “Kaunsa akhiri pal? Or kaunsa acha? Har pal tho ¢ bus tum ja rhi ho, yeh baat khayi khayi si jaari hai, aur abb yeh khush hone ka natak nhi hota uski awaz thodi bhaari hogayi thi. Tho phir ruk jau? maine pucha. Jaise mere kehne se ruk jaogi Koshish tho kar hi saktey ho na rokne ki' Nhi. Jao. Areh kehna kya chahtey ho? Maine hastey hua kaha. Yaad hai tum bachpan meh kehti thi ki tumko tumhare hisse ka aasman chahiye. Abb lene ki baari aayi tho mera chehra dekh le ruk jaogi. Aise thodi hota hai” Acha matlab tumko mai nhi chahiye? Areeh pagal, tum chahiye, lekin tumhare sapno seh aage nhi' Par... Par var kuch nhi, sab pack karliya na? Dawai le ou na sir dard wali, or yeh hath pe kya likh rakha hai ayeee bhagwaan iss ladki ko kitni baar bol rakha hai haath ko notepad na banaye. Kya bacho wali harkat hai usne mere hath pe dekhtey hue kaha. Tumhara naam likha hai maine dheere se jawab diya. Mitado. Dil meh hi kaafi hai, hath pe likhne ki Zarurat nhi.  Naam Part - 2 Neend aari hai, kal baat kaarey? Usne phone ko hath meh dheele se pakde hue kaha. Haa neend tho mereko bhi aari haimaine jawab diya. Okay bye. Dono ne ek saath bola or phone ki line rakh di.  Tommorow: Subha: Hi, good morning. Kya karri ho? Hello, good morning. Aaj presentation deni hai, ussi ki taiyaari karri hu. Thodi nervous hu. Areey ho jayega. Don't be nervous. Tum prepare karo, mai rakhta hu. Okay...  Shaam: Hello! Presentation mast gayi. Bahut acha. Maine kaha tha tum nautanki ho Khali Haha. Kahi busy ho kya peeche se kisi ladki ki awaz aari hai. Haa vahi bolne wala tha, Sanvi ke saath hu,voh college wali ladki,tho baad meh baat karunga. Oh. Itni important ho gayi voh? Ayee bhagwan. Hamara saath meh assignment hai. Rakh raha hu raat ko baat kartey hai. Raat: Tumhe abb mai pasand nhi. Kisne kaha? Tum baat nhi kartey aajkal. Oho. Tum kaunsa tower pe latak ke baat karti ho? Sanvi kaun hai, bataya nhi kuch kabhi. Ladki hai college ki. Hum dost hai. Do mahiney hue nhi mere gaye aur- I thought ki tum isse zyada understanding ho. I had a long day. Takkat nhi tumse jhagadane ki Ha mereko bhi koi shauk nhi. Tum uss din Instagram pe pictures upload ki thi, voh kaun tha. Vidhyut, batchmate tumhara. Maine kuch kaha kya?  Tum phirse purani baat leke aarahe ho. I am sick of this. Same here Give me a break!  Cool. Bye. Bye. Agle din: Sorry madam ji. Mai gussa tha. Usne kaha. It's okay.  maine jawab diya. Abb kya karu ki tum maan jaogi? Mai gussa nhi hu Lag rhi ho. Kaha na ek baar tho samajh nhi aata kya? Maine chila ke kaha. Ohh. Ha. Bilkul.  usne dabbi dabbi awaz meh kaha. lam okay. Okay.  Mujhe kaam hai mai jaari hu.  Okay. Bye phir. Kehke usne phone rakh diya. Sunday: Oye sunonaaaaaaaaaa Ha kaho. You know, mai chai bana rhi hu. Mai bhi. Saath meh piye? Vc pe?  Ha. Isliye I love Sundays. Acha sunona. I have an idea.  Batao. Date hai yeh hamari. Okay na? Date? Ha in ten minutes ache se taiyaar rehna, perfume nhi lagaoge tho bhi chalega maine bola or uchal padi. Hey, bahut sundar lagri ho aaj Haa. Yeh zyada nhi hogaya? Comeon maine shorts or tshirt pehni hai. Abhi tak nahai bhi nhi and tumko sundar lagri hu Tum humesha hi lagti ho, and about nahana. Jab tak smell nhi aati tumse tab tak it's fine. Shayad aari hai.hum dono hassne lage.  Areeh but I can't smell na. Chalo tho kya kya hua pure weekend batao. Apart from the jhagda Tum pata hai gusse meh bachi bann jaati ho Mai hu! Ha, isliye baat baat pe zidd rehti hai. Oyeeeeee yeh kya jungle laga rahe ho? Beard trim kab karoge? Areeh acha lag raha hu abhi badahunga thoda sa. Kyu? Mereko tum bina beard ke better lagtey ho Bacha lagta hu I like bacha. Pagal.... Wow tum sunne lageh ho meri aajkal. Haa socha try karlu. Kaisa ajeeb sa lag raha hai Ache lag rahe ho. C lag raha hu ek number ka. But cute wala C. Kya hoga tumhara.... Yeh shayad abb roz ka hogaya tha. Ladna jnhagadana manana. Kabhi dino tak baat nhi hoti thi. Ruthna manana, pyaar. Repeat.  Naam - Part 3 Abhi lamba course hai ek do saal tak vapis naa aau shayad. Hmm janta hu Tumhe lagta hai aise hum reh payenge Pata nhi Bahut log hotey hai,dus dus saal long distance ke baad bhi shaadi hojaati hai unki or pyaar nhi kamta Kuku, suno meri baat, kabhi kabhi na aadat ho jaati hai,ho sakta hai hume sirf aadat ho,pyaar kahi peeeche chuth gaya Tumhe kya lagta hai hume alag ho jaana chahiye? Pata nhi Abb ek or baar pata nhi bola tho pit jaoge merese Or jee nhi paunga... Kaise? Kabhi kabhi lagta hai na jaise tum mera aadha hissa apne pass le rakhi ho, yeh dooriyan ekdum achi nhi lagti Hmm...Kaam. hum dono. Pata nhi. Kaha. Kho gaye. Shabd milne mushkil hogaye the. Shhh. Hum khoye nhi,bus bade hogaye. Tho tumko tumhara adha vapis chahiye? Haa, iss baar pata nhi nhi bolunga,jaan pyaari hai apni voh halke se hasstey hue bola. Itni serious baat haste haste kaise bol letey noe Kya karu,ro bhi yho nhi sakta na. Kisne mana kiya? Tum hona,pagal si, tumhara adha bhi tho mere pass hai, mai hi ro dunga tho tumko kaun chup karayega? Kal flight hai meri Delhi ki, chodhne aayoge?akhiri baar? Meri bhi flight hai kal Kaha ki? Tumne tho bataya nhi iss bareh meh.. Socha samne batau,phone pe batana sahi nhi laga.vahi pe sab kaam hai abb. Mai bhi shayad vapis na aau. Abb hai hi kaun Kolkata meh. Mera bhi mann sa bhar gaya hai Tumhare chacha chachi hai na Khushi, mai jaara hu,bus usne iss baar mera pura naam bulaya,or usko mooh se ajeeb laga sunne meh. Tabhi itni asani se jaane dere ho mereko. Haina .Hassi aari hai soch ke. Kal hum dono alag alag disha meh udd jayenge.  Abb tum jao ghar. Kyu?itni jaldi hai door hone ki? Nhi, abb shayad aur control nhi hoga, ro dunga Okay jaa rhi hu mai mudhi or usne mera haath peeche se pakad liya. Sunona, last time gale milogi? usne jawab nhi sunna, ya shayad maine jawab diya hi nhi. Usse lipat si gayi, or ankhe bhar bhar si gayi. Uss taraf shayad uska haal bhi kuch aisa hi tha. Maine dekha nhi usko rotey hue, bilkul jaisa voh chahta tha. Uska haath dheere dheere mere baalo ko sahlata hua,aisa lagra tha jaise sab kuch khatam sa ho raha hai. Hum kitni der tak vaise hi khade rahe pata nhi. Abb kya meri baho meh hi rehne ka irada hai?” Daat todd dungi zyada hasso mat. Acha baba. Or any idea aunty kya banarhi hai dinner meh? Mera favourite. Bhindi Mera bhi favourite hai Tumhara kabse hogaya? meri favourite ka favourite is equal to mera favourite Chalo zyada maths mat sikhao humko. Dinner pe aajao. Chalo phir  Vaise hum abhi abhi alag hue the na? Shush meri jaan, kal se. Abhi bhuk lagrhi hai Bhukhad Bhukdi aseh hum akhiri baar hath meh haath diye saath chal diye. Agle din,airport pe dono alag hogaye, mai ek taraf thi or voh dusri taraf. Uski nazre mujhpar se haathi nhi. Hotho pe nakli khushi,ankho meh dard liye ghum raha tha. Khatam .  Naam - Part 4 Voh rukki nhi, bus chalti gayi dheere dheere, or har kadam ke saath samay itna jaldi nhi beeta kabhi. Mere andar ki awaz chhek rhi thi...lekin ottho pe hi reh gayi. Voh hi rok leti mujhe? Mai nhi rokta. Log kehtey hai, love means to let go. Agar kisi ko pyaar kartey hai tho uski khushi meh khush rah ke jaane dene ki bhi naubat aaye tho jaane dena chahiye. Yeh batey aksar kitabo meh padhi thi, padhtey samay asan lagi thi. Abhi aisa lag raha tha uske har kadam ke sath mere dil ki dhadkan kum si ho rhi hai, mera naam apni hateli pe liye jaari hai. Voh mujhe akhiri samay tak dekhti rahi. Mai bhi dekhta raha jab tak voh ekdum nazar se gayab na hui. Dard shayad uski taraf bhi kuch kum na hoga. Uska chehra, khaali sa lag raha tha. Meri khushi jaa rahi thi,or uski bhi... Mai pahucha. Ek baar ke liye tho bina soche call kar daali, pahuchi kya voh? Phir yaad sa aaya or phone ki ring jaane se pehle kaat diya. Kitni baar usko likhna chaha, har baar aadhe line tak pahuchtey pahuchtey mera mann badal jaata. Vakht beeta, kuch dost ban gaye.. Shekhar mera roommate tha. Usne do din tak mujhe dekha or teesre din bus ek sawal kiya. Ladki ka mami: hai? Maine gardan hilai. Usne phir kuch nhi pucha seedha, hath pakda or apne saath le gaya, hum ghume. Na voh kuch bola na mai. Phir shayad kabhi chup rahne ki zarurat na padhi.Hum aksar, sham ko bina kissi matlab ke ghumne nikal jaatey.Khushi hoti tho bahut hassti mere pe. Jaha mai ek samay bina matlab ke ghar se nikalta nhi tha bina matlab ke ghumna pasand nhi karta tha,or voh mujhe zabardasti kheech ke le jaya karti thi, aaj mai khud hi aise karne laga hu, Mai shayad badalne laga hu.  Naam - Part 5 KHUSHI Ghar pahuch ke bus intezaar raha, voh phone karega or humesha ki tarah chilayega, kaha thi? Bola tha ghar pahuch ke call karneko, sunti nhi ho meri kabhi bhi. Or mai usko bholi awaz meh manaungi. Lekin iss baar uska phone nhi aaya. Do teen baar tho aisa laga ki jaise puri duniya meri hassi si uda rhi hai, call aaya, lekin credit card wale ka. Maine uspe chilaya or keh diya ki agli baar vapas galti se bhi phone kiya tho ghar pe ghus ke marungi or rakh diya. Kya pata, voh call kareh or busy aaye, aisa nhi hona chahiye na... Din ke haftey, haftey ke mahiney hogaye. Uska call na aaya. Ek baar tho maine khud uska number daalke dekha. Switch off aya. Mere pass number daalke dekha. Switch off aya. Mere pass abb do raastey the. Pehla, uske ghar pe phone karke naya number nikalwau. Dusra , jaane du. Maine dusra chuna. Khud ko kitabo meh aisa duboliya ki vakht pe pankh lag gaye. Dosto se kuch din baat kya na hui, sab anjaan se bann gaye. Kuch din baad maiine dusra pg le liya. Or meri mulakat hui Anju se. Voh bachi thi, char saal ki, dheere dheere jaan ban gayi. Din kitna bhi bura jaata,Anju har subha apni mummy ke haath bheji chai dene aati or badlle meh humesha ek kahani sunn ke jaati. Usko dekh ke Khushi phirse hassne lagi.  Naam - Part 6 Mai kaam se ghar aarhi thi, bag meh chabbi khojtey hi rhi thi ki ek parcel dikha. Usme Kolkata ka address chappa hua tha. Uthane meh bharri sa tha. Dhyaan se dekha tho Aditya ke ghar ka address tha. Mai thaaki hui thi, andhere kamre meh lights jalai. Kuch 10.30 baj rahe the. Fridge meh subha ka banaya hua tarka padha tha. Or kuch rotiya jo mai bahar se kharid ke layi thi. Usko garam karke khaa liya or so gayi. Voh parcel table pe hi rakh diya, subha dekhungi. Subha ke 7 baje meri neend khuli. Chai banana or ghar ke safai ke kaam meh lag gayi. Aseh abb mai akele rehti thi. Mere jo pehle wale roomates the voh kuch do saal pehle apne ghar laut gaye. Abb idhar ekele rehne ki addat bhi hogayi thi. Ashi bhi aajkal thoda kum aane lagi thi, uske school hotey the. Or office se aatey hue mujhe roz late ho jaata hai. Chai banatey banatey, laptop ring kiya. Maa ka video call tha. Unhone itna tho seekh hi liya tha, abhi tak. Betu kya banarhi hai? Chai. Bus chai? Kitni baar bola hai khali chai mat piya kar, saath meh kuch khaya kar. Phir sir meh dard ho jayega. Phir tablets khati phiregi. Areeh maa, maine khaya tha.  Kya khaya zara batana tho? Uhmm maggie. Maine sochkar bola. Kitni bhi badhi hojaye, teri baato se pata chal jaata hai kab jhuth bol rhi hai. Maa ne mooh banatey hue bola. Acha baba, cereals khaa lungi. Baba kaise hai? Pucho mat tumhare baba ne mera jeena haram kar diya hai. Kal customer care wale se lad rahe the. Unka 31 rupayee ka balance jo kaat liya. Pura ghar sir pe utha rakha hai. Maa tum tho jaanti ho baba ko. Baat 31 rupaye ki hai nhi, baat hai ki galat hai na yeh. Tum hi sambhalo, baap beti dono ne pagal kar rakha hai. Haha. Acha suno sharma ji ke yaha shaadi hai. Tumko aana chahiye. Card mila kya tumko? Haa ek parcel, aaya hai shayad. Mereko mann nhi hai. Tum kabhi aana hi nhi chahti, akhiri baar bhi hume hi Delhi bulaya tha. Budhape meh maa baap ko itna satati hai. Mera kya hai mar jaungi ek din teri raah dekhtey dekhtey.. Oyee maaaaa. Stop this emotional blackmailing huh. Dekhti hu na. Chuthi bhi tho milni chahiye na.  Yeh chuthi bhi tho milni chahiye natak kissi or ko dikhana. Manali gayi thi jab apne uss Ravin or Avantika ke saath. Tab kaha se mili chuthi?  Maa boss ka call araha hai rakhti hu! Bolke maine turant phone rakh diya. Parcel khola tho ek golden envelope mila or saath meh ek mithai ka dabba. Card maine kholke dekhna zaruri na samjha. Mithai fridge meh rakh di. Aditya ki shaadi meh abb kya channa mereya gaane jau? Mai humesha ki tarah 9 baje tak taiyaar hoke nikal gayi. Traffic thoda zyada tha aaj. Lekin abb adat hogayi thi iss awaz ki bhi. Office pahuchteh hi sabko 'Good morning' boltey boltey apne cabin tak pahuchi. Iss morning meh kuch bhi good nhi tha, lekin kehtey hai na, never mix personal and professional lifes. Shruti har subha ki tarah mere cabin meh aayi kal wali files leke. Shruti, mereko aaj yeh reviews complete chahiye. Bahut din se pending hai. Or ha jaatey jaatey Sanjay ko bolna maine bulaya hai. Okay ma'am. Shruti bolke chali gayi. Thodi der meh Sanjay hasstey hue aaya. Sanjay ke bareh meh do cheeze. Ek voh bina matlab ke hassta hai. Dusra mereko bilkul pasand nhi uska yeh over the sea attitude. Sanjay tumko jo kaam diya tha last week hogaya? Nhi ma'am. Kar hi raha tha. Usne phir muskuratey hue kaha. Kal tum 6 baje office se nikal gaye. May I know the reason? Voh ma''am... Mereko jawab mil gaya. Jao. Aaj mereko complete chahiye.  But ma'am shaam tak complete nhi hoga Complete karke hi jaana nhi tho kal mat aana. Maine keh diya or Sanjay sir jnukaye chala gaya. Mera phone baja. Ek unknown number display kiya. Hello? Khushi Di hai kya? Kaun? Drisha. Drisha Aditya ke chacha chachi ki beti thi. Oh my god. Drisha. Sorry pehchana nhi. Awaz bahut badal si gayi hai Voh choro. App aarhi ho na shaadi meh? Uncle aunty bole ki unse app maan nhi rahi ho Dekh rahi hu Drisha. Adi bhaiya ko bhi acha legaga. Umm. Shayad. Kam se kam ek haftey pehle aana. Kitna time hogaya hai. Almost 6 saal. Sab aise ekdum busy hogaye. Haa. Kaisi ho? Abb iska jawab apko Kolkata meh aake milega. Acha mai tumko batati hu shaam tak. Theek hai na? Okay! Sab aarahe hai. App mana mat karna please!. Din soch soch meh hi khatam hogaya. Aaj shaam ko mai 6 baje nikal gayi. Mere mann meh Drisha ghum rhi thi. Jaana chahiye ka? Awkward nhi ho jayega? Adi ki shaadi, voh bhi kissi or se. Mai jaake kya karu? Mera dimaag sawalo se bhara tha jo mai khud se hi karri thi. Ghar ke bahar. Aaj ek note padha tha. See you in 5 yeh Ravin ka tareeka tha. Ravin mera neighbor tha, or hum dost the char saal se. Duniya bhar ke saare atpatey tareeke uske pass the. Mai fresh hoke change karke baith gayi. Thodi der meh Ravin bhi agaya. Tho madam ji. Kiss baat pe soch rhi ho itna? Tumko kisne bola mai soch rhi hu? Lag tho raha hai. Kuch nhi Okay. Acha tum itna insist kar hi rahe ho tho batati hu. Kolkata janeka hai. And mai confused hu jau ki nhi.  Kyu? Jao na. Kitna kaam karogi? Shaadi hai kisi ki. Acha naam kya hai ladke ladki ka?  Dekha nhi card kholke. But obvious nhi tha? Adi weds something. Kaha rakha hai? Table pe dekh lo Ravin utha or table ki taraf gaya. Card khola or usne meri taraf dekha. Naam tho interesting hai dono ka. Drisha weds Abhimanyu. Sunne meh match karra hai Kya, ek second dikhao!!! Maine turant dekha. Sunehre aksharo meh Drisha weds Abhimanyu naam likha tha. Date or time ke saath. Maine bina card dekhe hi soch lia ki Adi ka card hoga. Mai bhi pagal hu. Lekin matter nhi karta. Ravin. Haa bolo. Mai Kolkata jaa rhi hu Hum Ravin ne ankh martey hue bola. Oho tum kiss liye? Mera vaha pe kuch kaam hai. Interior designing ka. Ghum bhi lunga. Okay. Aaj kaunsa show dekhna hai? Umm. Sochne do. Naagin? Mereko samajh nhi aata. Why are you so obsessed with her. Areey she's sexy. Akele dekho tho jaake. Mera mood nhi naagin ka. You're just jealous of her. Maine gate pe padha ek chappal phenk ke mara or voh miss hogaya. Hum dono hassne lage. Kuch der meh Ravin mere couch pe hi khaatey khaatey so gaya. Maine usko kuch odhakar. Apne room meh sone chali gayi. Jaldi hi neend aaqgayi."}
{"text": "Taare bhi tere naam, Chaand bhi tere naam, Main bhi tere naam."}
{"text": "I looked vulnerable, crying in pain, with you hiding me into your chest and felt the safest nest. I think it once and twice and I don’t know how many times, you meant everything to me, while you just termed it as ‘nothing’.  I think that’s how it’s so easy for you to shut it down, end so easily. It’s funny how I check my inbox.  Refreshing it, but then it shows nothing too, ha-ha mockery. I could only see your last word ‘anymore’. I want to cry, beyond I can say.  This feeling of being nothing doesn’t fade away.  It sticks to my skin until the breaking dawn, feeling my skin, and how it misses being around you. And I feel like an ashtray burring down all the ashes from the cigarette you held through your lips. Our kisses weren’t the fairy types, but felt more like two cyclones crashing by the night, trying to submerge their violent gushes of tempest into each other. Lights lights, I hate them. I feel they take you away from me. Maybe makes you feel guilt as you climb down the bed, rebuckling the belt. You leave. You don’t look at me. You don’t stay. You don’t kiss. You just...well. Leave. Leave me still naked on the bed curled into the white bed sheet, like a corpse. I see everything, and still I pretend to not know, to be asleep. You confuse me. You tuck me into the bed at times, when you’ve to leave midnight. You look at me for long hours when I am asleep. You handle me like a butterfly. You’re scared of them. They’re beautiful, but delicate. And there’s a storm, wind in its vulnerable form. And you know, the butterfly’s wings may break. And it may die or just be broken, in pain. You scare death, and you can’t see pain. I am the butterfly, and you’re the wind, unsure of what you might become. You hate attachments, and you hate to become attached.  You hate feelings, and still manage to have them. There are fifty reasons to why I love you and a fifty more to why you don’t. We are equal. We are good, in our places. Aren’t we? I miss the wind."}
{"text": "She left. And? And I waved her a bye. She waved back and smiled. And? And I miss her already. And? I said all. What else are you expecting? What about the ring? That you bought for her?it was the ring they got in shops. It had took him some amount, which was close to a fortune for two kids in grade sixth and seventh. It had small hearts. Oh. It's still in my pocket.  You didn't give it to her? No. I mean. I think this is the last thing we have. She....And..I couldn't tell her. I knew it! I could see that written clearly on your face. Say we meet after 20 years. She will see me and smile, the same way now. We will go on lunch. We will spend time. And if, if I told her today and she doesn't like me. 20 years later, she won't see me and smile....so I didn't give her. What an explanation. Yeah. Anyway. Take this ring. I love you too right?So yeah. Will be happy if least someone gets it. I won't wear it. It's hers. No. It's mine. You see the small tiny hearts. Just like ours. Small and Beating. We'll remember this time.  He took it out from his pocket. It slipped through his hand. It fell on the white marble.It didn't break. Just got a broken heart. And somewhere I knew it was his. ~A sister who saw his brother fall in love. (Young and in love)"}
{"text": "I didn't speak anything. He was quiet too. There was an unknown understanding to not speak. His hand caressed my fingers, making small pools through his fingers. I checked my watch. It was late. I need to go. Stay he said silently. No. I need to go. Bye. I said directly. We were somewhere near the corner on the terrace, as we were about to get down the staircase, he pinned me to the wall. His gentle breath directly making it's way to my neck making fireballs. Let me go, someone will see us. Since when did you started caring about someone? I always cared.  Liar.  Not bigger than you.  I know.  I like the moon. It's beautiful  I said trying to distract myself from his sudden closeness. Okay so tell me fast. And I will leave you. Tell you what? The thing your eyes told me. I don't know.  The thing you wrote in your diary?  I don't know.  Okay. I love you.  What? Nothing.  What did you just say? Nothing.  You just said I love you. I love you too. Now go. The moons beautiful. But not more than you. Bastard. Yours. Mine."}
{"text": "Sometimes it sucks a lot without you. You were like the music that made me forget everything. I still remember you telling me that ‘I don’t need to belong anywhere, because am one of my kind’. One day i will see that silly smile again and I’ll wait. I know you’ll be back. I know."}
{"text": "Hum naddi ke do kinarey, Judhe hai ek nao ke saharey. Alag hum nhi, Alag hamari baatey hai Ek dusrey ko dekhtey dekhtey Hojati subha ki raatey hai. Kaash hum mil paaye, Naadi ke do kinarey, Karengey fir jeene marne ke kuch vaadey. Par hona hai vahi jo hota hai, Phir chahe kaise bhi ho iradey, Hum hai or rahenge Sirf naddi ke do kinarey."}
{"text": "Happy Raksha Bandhan!he said forwarding his right hand for her to tie. She tied it, real tight. To a limit it would hurt. Ahh stop. Tie it a bit loose. That hurts.  he said. You deserve that.she chuckled. Yeah yeah. Now where are my gifts?  Wait. I have got something.  his hands reached his backpocket to fetch a wallet. He took out something that resembled another rakhi. I will tie you this. But sisters do that. Brothers don't. She said confused. See, you tie me rakhi every rakhsha bandhan. But something I realized. You save me too. You cover me up whenever I do stuff that I am not supposed to do. You know my secrets. You keep them safe. You protect me . So yes. Hence the true meaning. Save me like this, forever, for life?  She nodded ,forwarded her hand as he tied the thread with blue beads, and a small crystal. A promise for life time. And she knew she would keep it.She smiled. Now where's my money? She chirped. Ahh. We are settled. I am not asking for money. Am I?he said laughing. I hate you! She barked. I know!but I love youhe laughed. Get lost! Awww meri gullu.... . (P.s. gullu is my nickname.)"}
{"text": "So, it's been exactly seven months ten days. And we're here at this strange place. I have nothing to give, than just some words, a voice note and some tears(provided you shed them). I have a bag of memories. It's small but it's pretty much like Doraemon's pocket. It's spacious.  1*' January, you did something. And I will be reminding you, until you give me something else to tease you about.  Some words. This gal misses you, and is dying to tell you her storie. Okie? I will try my best not to change. I would. Mice."}
{"text": "You remember the first time. You said, it's impressive how I am able to remember exact lines from books I read. Here's a line for you, It's funny, don't ever tell anybody anything, if you do, you start to miss everybody. I would leave it to you, figuring out what it means. Here's a mixture of everything. End Roads, never the end, blue skies, a girl in love, with skies, a boy, in love, with gelatos, and stories, boring nights, things, adult kid,maturity, secrets a many? Talks and talks, the kid and the Santa Claus ,lost, misery, pain, still back again to the romeo rain,you and me, the night we met, heard the birds sing, slept in the morning, life fast, times off, times sad? Opening up, accepting fears, UNO, nose, pimples,hair, bitch the A**** work, sadness, world cup, smiles, calls an hour long, changing moods with a song, accepting hate, despise love ,not ready yet, I don't know what to call you anymore, anymore, make the ends meet, let the ink fade, care still, beats till, stars plucked like new born leaves ,be a good girl please? Two weeks suck, back to line, call it luck. Naah fuck luck. Happy birthday. Happy Birthday! Hope you remember all. Be the best, like you are, would always be From your dearest, Adity (I got rhyming skills in- bones inbuilt)"}
{"text": "Nights we have had, Talking in hushed tones Cause we're not alone at home. Nights where we kissed through the screen, Secretly wishing It was real instead of reel. Nights where I cried, And you stopped. The vulnerable sides, the sides we'd just snap, And try sleeping, hearing songs, Thinking what we may have lost Lost each other in a second gap? The next morning, all I know You'd be too precious, To be added in the pile of lost ones So I'd rather make it up to you, A coffee, a date, a kiss Falling in love again Another first I love you,miss."}
{"text": "She heard it again and again, The song of longing The song of wait. She waited down the streets Dripping in the rain The fever caught in her breath Her red palms turning pale She sat down on the pavement Now a little tired, She was waiting, Her feet dancing in the rhythm, The song of longing, The song of wait She held her hands tight on her ears, Thinking she could forgive and forget Stop the song, Stop the wait. Her eyes read the number plate of every car that passed by, Hoping for a familiar number plate? Somebody, covered her up, with a blanket Her arms crept up, Hoping for the same arms around her No one it was None came Her body turned ice cold The cold froze her instinct to think The song stopped exactly how she wished Now that no one would say she didn't wait, She waited enough To be in her own grave."}
{"text": "Stars you know. They play. They shine. They stay. But they still play. A music of distance A humming sound of the melody As if they are giggling to themselves Laughing at the confused me Am I mine or yours I am confused help me thee They twinkle a little With their small light And they make the sky magical Magical like you, There's not much difference between the stars and you, They're far, you're too They have this little light You have your little bracelet that glows in the night They're magical You're too They laugh You laugh too I am in love with them I am in looveee with....aage ka tum samajhdaar ho."}
{"text": "Thodi si baarish, Thodi si hawa, Thoda sa dil, Thoda sa khafa, Thoda sa tum, Thoda sa mai, Thode thode meh kaha gum hogaye? Aur abb yaha thoda, thode se zyada hogaya Ki abb thoda na raha Hume bhi abb alag hue Ek zamana sa hogaya"}
{"text": "Dear you, Yeah, again. It's me. Day 56, uh no sorry 57 time 3.54 pm. I am sorry. It's been exactly a year, and a little more. It's like this window. I come everyday. And the lights are on. And I know you're awake. And I know you won't speak. I know I made a mistake. 'A' would be an understatement. I made many. A little less than the stars over the horizon. You love stars, but you never loved mistakes. I remember the first time we met, you'd said, I hate people who lie. I hate mistakes. And I heard it, and I knew, I was making a mistake right then. Right then. And I thought over it all night. And I didn't wanted to loose you. Well you see, I anyway lost you. Funny thing. We always hurt the people, we never want to hurt. It's an act. And we do it. Knowingly or unknowingly. In my case, I don't know. I would call it my act of selfishness. I am. Very. I see the lights switch off at exactly two a.m. I see your figure roaming around,something pressed against your head,which I beleive to be a phone. Sometimes I would see dim light, and I know you're binging over the Netflix again. You never open the window. You used to. Now, you don't. Cause, you know. I'd be over the window, waving at you, with my old sorry note. Even if you open the window, you won't wave back, won't smile at me or giggle whenever I hit my head on the grill trying to somehow crane my head, expecting to reach your windowsill. Stupidity at it's best. I guess, we never know things, until we lose them. Every morning I pass a letter down the sleek space under the door, it disappears inside and I'd never know if you read it or just threw it in the dustbin. But there is a hope. Just like that one light in the dark. Dark sky and darkness everywhere, and just one light through your window."}
{"text": "A long time after, fingers slipped, a chat with my old bestfriend. Dear diary, a ear for the ones, who want to speak, but are better with words, through the ink. A thousand secrets of the adolescence, confessions of love, the lost age. This was a bookmarked page. A page, filled with a strang of cupid's wings and a lovers phase. Some drops of pearls had managed to make a mark on the yellow page, and their lay a heart. Just a heart, a little tattered, a little old, a little folded, like it has gone through generations waiting for the person. My name didn't seem to vanish much. It's still there in some imperfect words. A hand cut heart out of a piece of love, a part , with small hands, promises to always be there. And something was felt. The solace, of being wanted for once. And this is how I remember,  To be young, and in love."}
{"text": "Right. I would never understand. I didn't when I saw you giggling to yourself and then I saw a book, tight around your hands. And you were reading. You kept doing it, sometimes you'd look around to see if someone thought you were a crack. And yeah for once I did. I have seen people, smiling seeing texts. Smileys and emojis and Ily s. It was tha last period. You closed the book down. You got bored. You stared outside the window with a too blank expression and then you wrote. For a second I thought you were crying. Maybe you were. You tore the paper right outside the notebook. Scrunched it throwed it in your desk. That page joined the rest, the balls of your thoughts. I am sorry, I didn't get a better term. I am not talking dirty.  You walked out and I saw the papers. Unfortunately I didn't know which was your recent. Therefore I took them all. Filled them in my bag. I went home and read it all. And I laughed like an lunatic. Never halfed in years. You made me smile. You and your thoughts. It had people. I was one of your thoughts and it made me giggle. Yeah, better than those Ily texts or kissing emojis.A handsome piece of shit you had called me in one of those, describing every person in your class.I didn't know whether to get offended or laugh. All I knew was I wanted to get in your head and read you all the more.  All the more and more. I reached early, market each paper of yours with an ink and threw them the same way it was before. I had written my comments over each of them. Like it was a conversation, and I knew  you would never get to know, never read. Except that you did. And it was there where it all began. Just like that."}
{"text": "Sometimes we become the exact person we never wanted to be.  I wonder if it's just me or happens with you too, we keep on questioning ourselves. If we have become exactly what we never wanted to be."}
{"text": "DEAR SOMEONE, I tried several times. To not write. And it turned out am sitting by this typewriter again. Writing about some guy I met. So let me think. I was sitting by the terrace, my back against the wall, clutching my notebook tight in my hands,scribbling down my thoughts.And you appeared out of nowhere. You commented on my handwriting. said it was pretty and definitely a lot better than yours.I smiled. Next day I again came. Hoping for you to be there. And you were. That day I had brought my board. My board had things written. Probably my thoughts. Scribblings and drawings through the permanent marker. Death pain and life as I have seen, you studied it like it was a subject. Asked me questions, over words and I answered. Never have I been so happy to speak out. And keep speaking. I nicknamed you as someone. And yeah, my cat liked you. Not me, remember my cat. The same one who stepped on the keyboard and typed 'I like you'.The next day I came again. And you were there. Days passed like this, waiting for the evening. Sneaking out under the glaring eyes to the terrace under the skies. And one day, we had a fight. A fight. And someone apologized. Me first, then you. This one day, we were close, your hands tight under my waist. We were almost about to kiss,when the wind blew the mist. And behind the mist, wasn't you,it was another man. Who wanted to be kissed and touched under no commitment. It was another side, and you knew it all along. So you told me to go, and I went with the shocked expression, and I could feel the hurt in your words. I went and the next day I waited for you down the same place we first met. The same diary in my hand.You never came again. You disappeared, just the way you came. End game."}
{"text": "Pehle waala din nhi, Pehle wali raat nhi, Kuch jo tere mere darmiyaan Abb voh wali baat nhi. Mere hatho meh Tera kaspe pakda hath nhi, Bheed meh bhi jo lage apna sa Abb voh tera sath nhi.  Abb kitna der vaha khaadi rahi, Voh din bhi tho theek se yaad nahi. Tumne kaha jaane do Humne bhi kaha roka Abb jane wale ko bhi kisne toka?  Ek pal ko aisa laga jaise duniya barbaad hogayi, Mai nhi royi kasam se Ghar jaatey samay rastey meh Bus bin mausam barsaat hogayi."}
{"text": "I knew she was leaving. She told it to me herself. And somehow I knew she'll never come back to the same city, same town, same neighborhood, or the same house. She won't. I can tell this by the way she looked out of the windows. Smiling at the birds gliding over the sky, like she wanted to join them. I couldn't tell this when she said she liked the colour blue, more than anything that exists. And she did, more than me. She used to say, imaginations are never supposed to be limited, it should be like the origin where the ocean meets the sky, like infinity. You keep trying to reach the place and it's farther away. Beyond reach. The silly girl took a promise from me, not to cry. And I took a promise from her, that she'll return, one day. Like the one day's that never come, she'd never too. And so we both break each other's promise. It's least better than breaking each other's hearts. But you see this way or the other.  It's broken, too many pieces to count. Her flight was too high and all I could  do was wave to the clouds hoping she'd be waving back too. She looked at me with her glassy eyes, her emotions were mixed, like oxymoron, the worst and the best at the same time. I asked her address, where will she stay in there,and she wrote something on my hand. She told me not to read it until she disappears into the mist. She waved me a bye and I saw her walking away and finally vanish. I opened my fist trying to contain my emotions and refrain from crying in the middle of the road. And the words shining like some magic spell she had cast Meet me where the ocean meets the sky  and that's till where her magic lasts. Her magic was gone, along with her."}
{"text": "We all have a story to tell, A story unheard, mistaken Words misspelled. Ask to the lady down the second street, Who does she wait for everyday In the treacherous heat? Ask the lost kid, Finding his way back home Amidst the crowd How doth he get hope? Ask the maiden On her marriage day, How many promises she weaved in the garland with string of hay Confounded, to be sad Or be gay? Ask the cobbler who made thy shoes How much love he carried The old eyes, behind the grim glasses On the leather and boots Ask Hades, the underworld god, How he fell for Persephone Picking the flowers in her motherly lawn I know it, And I'd never speak enough well Cause it's own story To hush down Or tell."}
{"text": "Things happen. And they're not always in control. All you can do sometimes is accept. Acceptance has power. It really does. And there will be this one day when you won't feel the same vulnerable, like the sky would come back to it's old shade, the autumn will be over. And  it would be time for the new buds to bloom and grow. And you'll feel it in your veins. Like. How about living again?"}
{"text": "Rishtey hotey hai patle dhaage, Tutte jaye tho phir na bunne, Judd bhi jaye tho gath reh jaati hai Mann bhi tho aisa hai Har baat reh jaati hai.  Money is earned by everyone, earn relations, love people. What's once is gone is gone. Then it is useless regretting on the what ifs and the Had Is. So cherish everything you got. I know I suck at templates. Sorry for that."}
{"text": "October,2016. We both had been heartbroken, crying in some dark alley, assuring our neighborhood aunts that we're fine. We were eating ice cream, one two many, actually I didn't count but well. We thought it would numb the pain and somewhere it did. The summer must've gone really fast, trying to find a new value to the life we once almost lost. She broke your heart. And he did mine. We were in a different city different ally and under a different sky. And actually, now I realize, I was never alone. When I actually felt. There were who knows a millions or more crying with me, walking alone under some streetlight some drunk some eating ice creams, some just walking. So that is why, I am using we. Now the fact, that we didn't break each other's heart then, makes up for now. Cause eventually we did. And I remember the promises we gave. When we give a promise, we mean for it to stay. And well. Sometimes it just doesn't. And you were just this another chapter I guess. Just another part. And I wanted you to be my story. The ending you know. The happy ones we talked about. Remember? So as much as I want to finish this book with you. I can't. And as much as I want to remember you, I won't. And so. I hereby break one more promise. Add this to the pile. And that is writing this here. Cause I want to forget you, but I do not want to forget the feeling of loving you. You're just a chapter, and yet the most memorable one. And I want to reread you. I wonder if this will happen again. Perhaps life is a cycle. What goes comes back again. Maybe, love will find me again. Maybe."}
{"text": "Sometimes you just need people to say shushh it's okay, I love you. And basically, they never say.  Basically they never say. Cause apparently you're wrong. Apparently it's your mistake. Apparently...."}
{"text": "Hey hey, girl stop. It's okay. You're good. But they said I am wrong. It's all my mistake. Naah. Shush. It's not. Give me his number. Let me bang that guy's ass. He should know how to talk to a girl No but they said I provoked!!! Doesn't matter. Come here. Let me try a hug. I got cold. It's okay babe. You can use my tshirt in replacement of tissue.  You don't mind it? Lam gonna anyway strip it tonight.:P Perv!"}
{"text": "“Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.” I had first read this in standard seven. I wasn't exactly a fan of physics, but seems like Newton just didn't die writing a law of motion. It's universally applied. In everything, not a thing happens without it. Though the reaction may not be of the same intensity. One can react more to something and less to something. So. Where were we? I hate the law. Cause, we have to always choose. And since everything is connected with everything, everything you do leads to everything happening. Yes. That's a tongue twister. And I am bad at making it. So you always end up hurting someone, and making someone happy. Sometimes I think physics basically have a problem of birth in it. Why do we fall in love? Gravity. Otherwise, we'd be floating in love. Well we do that too, if love feels requited, and if not. You just fall and hurt your head. Cry a bit. Get up and move on. I know I am basically typing crap, and I keep typing it and I don't know where to stop typing and I am aware I have already used and three times, oops four. It's 1.14.am and I am trying to sleep. I know this is not my diary, but it's dark, I can't write a diary in dark. I am too tired to get up and switch on the lights. I am exhausted . Of everything."}
{"text": "“Everything is breaking apart” It's the time when you know everything is moving away. Connections, relations,friendships like someone just added a drop of lemon to the milk. And it will never be the same again. Good times, brings good memories, friends joy and happiness. Bad times brings, sadness, and this is the time you realize, who is your friend. Friend in true sense. And in hurts, when the one you thought would be with you, is the first one to withdraw. People save themselves first. It's a way to life. Do not waste yourself, on someone who is not willing to do the same for you. And you realize maybe, every promise was a lie. Every word was just a word. And every person is distant. And maybe the old school memories would bring joy for once. And then you'll feel this searing pain, and things are not the same again. And trust me. Who wants to stay does. And you've been wasting your feelings on wrong people for so long. And everything is falling and maybe the gravity has hit too hard. And the pieces of glass have made their way into your skin and there's blood. And pain. Everything is breaking apart. You , me us everyone and everything."}
{"text": "“Happy birthday. 5:42 pm Wish you the best in life. With or without me. 5:42 pm” - message from him on whatsapp  Real men who love their wives prepare them for widowhood '. I don't remember where I read. But I remember it. Well and I don't know if it's true. Is it? When we love someone, we get so involved , that at this point we forget our ownself. We just go on with the flow of life. If I love someone, I would like that person to be happy-with or without me. After all, love never promised to stay together, we did. Love never promised happiness, we did. Love was never forgetting yourself into someone, it is finding yourself more. Does he tell you to learn to cross the road yourself? See the red light, and then see across left and right both. Then cross. I am here nothing will happen. And you learn it. You get over the anxiety. I am scared of crossing roads and hence this example. Does he tell you to get to go forward? Take your decisions? And I will hold you if you fall? Love isn't about calling each other baby, it's about looking at each other when they miss their mother. Love is basically. Just love."}
{"text": "Kolkata. The city of joy. I have always wanted to see the city, cold and aesthetic, the evening, the people, the laughter and ofcourse, the joy.  It's a beautiful night. Lights and lights. Food and chatter. Laughter and happiness. The daughter of the city is back to her place.For nine days. I am standing right there. Close to the empty street. Alone? No. Not this time. His hands are warm and all held tight. I fear, I would get lost in so much happiness, and the air around. The air that feels like drugs, and him being the catalyst in our chemistry, boosting my smile.  I am looking pretty today. Exactly the way I imagined, big jhumkas, a red lehenga,with golden embroidery and blue borders. A churni with the same colour, giving the birth mark around my waist a little show. I am shy usually. But I know, today is mine. And I won't let anyone take it away from me. Not even myself. My hair has somehow managed to tame itself,as if said this morning 'live it and I promise not to interfere'. My hands are full with bangles, the glass ones. The ones I have dreamt of, the glass ones, the colorful ones you know? There is a bindi on my forehead, a small one though, it's a bit more on the left side, but who cares. I can't see it. Can I? Haha.Maa says, big ones are for married women, and small for the maidens. I miss her. I have payals around my feet, and they don't give the same joy as it used to with those baby shoes that made sound every time I stepped. Like every step counted. But they're still trying to compete. I am feeling beautiful. Feeling new. Feeling different. And I know, it's not just about the night, or the city, he also counts in. Right? The city looks even more serene in the night. A kind of feeling I can't hide. We are right around the corner, eating food. He like the movies they do, wipes of the chat from the corner of my lips. I can't help the laugh. It's like a carefree spring. And it feels like, freedom has come and kissed me twice. Blessed me twice. Blessed the city. Blessed the night. And I don't want it to end. This feeling is new. And I want to live it. Now. Now. Right now. A dream of ten years. Finally. Let me live it.Shush let me sing."}
{"text": "I'll look at you from this far. I am having a bag around my shoulders.You Il be with your friends. I will give you his weak smile, and you'll smile back a little. And then you Il disappear with them, and I will walk away alone.   “No” “Then?” You'll look at me. You're wearing this heavy bag on your shoulders. You give me this weak smile. I am with my friends, I excused myself and I will walk towards you. And ask do you want to go out? And I will take your bag and carry it for you. I'll say yes, but only hanging out. Okay? “Okay ma’am” -Popular Boy & Invisible girl.  Ever been anyone of them? Swipe. Tried this the first time..so how's it? I guess we all have these insecurities . And many a times we are wrong."}
{"text": "“My heart feels heavy, and light at the same time. I am not sure how that mechanism works..” Dear Adi, Yesterday was the first time I didn't feel like writing to you. My heart felt heavy, and light at the same time. I am not sure how that mechanism works. But it is really confusing. The Autumn Park, they're demolishing it. A new five star hotel will stand up in it's place. I fought. I remember throwing a punch on the crane man, dragging him out of his seat and punching him. And then I remember waking up in some bed today morning. I don't remember how I passed out. Everything is blur. I haven't moved on yet. I am still waiting in the park. Eight p.m. sharp. I had been waiting there half an hour before eight. I know you don't like late people. I was wearing a nice suit, flowers in one hand. I had even bought a silver ring, though it costed me some fortune. I just wanted to make it exactly like you said you'd want to get proposed. I kept sitting on the bench. The same one we sat on when we accidentally first met. I called your number at 8.15 and it wasn't reachable. Next time I checked my watch was 9.45. And it started to rain. The rain kept hitting on my head. I was drenched. And I kept calling you, till my phone turned off. I remember once you told me the story of Pyramus and Thisbe. I kept thinking, had Pyramus waited, the color of mulberry tree leaves would still be white, and they would have lived their 'happily ever after '. And so, I waited. I have been waiting since three years. Same time, same place and same bench. I am writing these letters. I remember you once said, how you were unsure if technology made us close or made us far. The longing and the distance somehow made people close, people poured out their heart, and it felt like a one sided conversation out of love. And how being one text away made people take people for granted.And this is how I know you'd be reading this. You must be wondering why I am reminding you everything. When I woke up, it was evening and I ran to the park. It was no more there. Cranes were still parked. Trees cut down, and our bench was still there,half broken. There are no kids playing around anymore, no bird's nest, I can't even see the old lady, who threw bread for the pigeon, nor the dog who used to laze on the sand heap. Nothing's left anymore. Not you, not me. I think I have waited enough, and now there's no place left to wait. I think this is the end. And I feel heavy and light at the same time. I am not writing. Today is last. You left,and left this part of yours in me, and I can't keep you with me. Anymore."}
{"text": "I would do anything to not feel the way I feel now. I hate good nights and goodbyes. Good nights means I have another eternity of night to think about all, everything that is going away, or the guilt that the day wasn't productive at all. I want to talk, turn the nights into mornings. The darkness engulfes me tonight, and I don't see a way out. I don't like goodbyes. They tell me that nothing is going to stay. Everything would eventually leave you and you'll be left with good bye which is not at all good. It's the feeling. You walking on road. People. Everyone one. And you'll keep walking and fish your pocket for a phone. Must've tried all the friends, just cut down the feeling of being lonely in the busy street. I promise. Will sleep tommorow by time. Cause I hate nights. And I will make sure I will never be awake at this time. Note it down. 2.16 am. And I know. I am writing something. And I don't know . The feeling sticks to me like leech pulling my soul out of happiness. Like some sad piano that keeps playing and never ends. And I wish one day the fingers get tired and the piano stops. No more sad. No more harmony. No more laments. No more of anything."}
{"text": "She was sitting on the white bench. Her bag hanging through her right arm. Her head was down and I knew she was thinking again.  Hey, why are you here for? I asked. Well, the same thing you're here for. Submissions. She said. I know that! I mean, why are you sitting here? Uhm. Work's done so going home, waiting for the bus Well. What's the hurry? There are other friends. Let's hangout with them for some time, atleast till your bus comes. No, I have to go home. Dad must be waiting.  Adi, can you stop lying already? Can you stop bothering already?  Lol, why don't you ever try to stay? Why are you always running. Here to there. All the time. I don't stay because I don't have a reason to stay. Well well am I not a reason?  No you're not. Okay. She stood up. Where? Going to walk till the bus comes Well. How about I join? Weren't you just about to hangout out with your friends? Well. I guess someone has a reason to stay. Unlike some people. Stop stealing my lines! Learnt from you.  I whispered. Her lips formed a beautiful curve, though she tried hard to suppress. I walked with her though none of us said a word. I guess we found our reasons. To stay. Passing through the time."}
{"text": "I am listening to the same melody. The same song looping, a sixty times. Tu thori der aur theher ja, the song of stay. When you want someone to stay and just stay. You don't want them to do anything, just staying would do. It's a cry from within, when you wnat the time to stop and it doesn't, so you just want the person to stop. Maybe a little longer. Longer than everyone else. Maybe a little longer for life."}
{"text": "Days fly. Love too. Birds too. Everything just passes. I feel like Icarus, exactly what he felt drowning into the ocean. I broke up with him. I would use the word 'serious' that generally lovers use before they break up. I wouldn't start nibbling about it, I would just say, we had one end. We never blocked each other in anger, though we did remove our profile pictures when we wanted to showcase being upset. Not that, words didn't help just that silence helped better. So the 'End' felt like the end of the world except that it wasn't. It was just another beginning. Another tear off and write again. But I didn't feel like writing again. I felt breathless, like I was drowning. Sleeps started to increase, until I was 'thrown out' by my grandmother to get some fresh air. This one day, I woke up. Dressed into regular jeans and a bit of makeup and went out. I didn't have a purpose I just felt like it. I just felt the weight shift off. And the moment the wind passed through me, and the clouds cheered me to wake up from my hibernation, I knew, I was breathing again. Yes I was writing again, into this fresh page. It was then I realized how it's been two months. Days fly."}
{"text": "Even if you were the night, And I were the day I would still love you More and more In every way, And I would wait at the shore For us to meet at the bay. One day one day."}
{"text": "We are not puzzle pieces,we are shapes. We don't need to fit in always. Sometimes, we need to make our own space."}
{"text": "“Does life even stop?” Is there a tommorow?  Is there a after this? We shall live after this. Shall we really live? After exams, after eighteen, after marriage, after kids, after struggle ends. After life ends? Is there any after struggle? Aren't we struggling now? Trying to find some solace in the mobile screen, some peace, some time off. Aren't we thriving to be better us every passing day? Does life ever stop, giving you a chance to breathe? It's a struggle itself from the first cry, Till the silence engulfs your grave. Live when you get a chance, smile when you can, laugh if you may, tomorrow doesn't guarantee anything. Live now, today."}
{"text": "Happiness needs to be found. You don't get it. You need to create it. This is Pinku. The last member to join the family. I was in standard seven. And I had to choose between phone and Pinku. And you see, I chose Pinku. Let's begin from the beginning. We had around seven to eight soft toys. We had got them in different occassions one by one, as a gift. I hadn't purchased any, other than Pinku.  Shera, was the bengal tiger. And we married her to Mary, the dog. Now, don't stress your brains, Shera was vegetarian. So he didn't eat Mary. Infact, they were in immense love. Though they fought most of the times. But then that's how love works. Isn't it?  Nicky and Nacky, were monkey brothers. Nicky was the cutest and tiniest on in our family. Nacky had long arms.Nicky, was dating a doll, who was Sweety. Sweety was a baby doll, was gifted my my Buaji. Nicky was a A1 flirt . Sweety was a witty girl, and a good feminist. She made sure Nicky was in the line all the time. Now don't ask me how monkey and human can be in relationship. Weren't your ancestors monkeys? Nacky was a forever single. He was a tacky and idiotic character. Though he was Nicky's brother, but Nicky a lot of times called him an Uncle. I loved Nacky though, so he hung around my neck.  Next addition was Teddy. Teddy was gifted to my granny on my standard 3 birthday. He was a bear. He was pink as well. But I was small, so I named him like that. Teddy was also forever single in a way. He kinda liked a girl. Lily. But Teddy was aged, say equal to Nacky. And Lily was a small teddy, like a baby one. Smaller than Sweety. Teddy took care of Lily . He loved her. But obviously. They couldn't match. Age was a factor. So Teddy also never married. A new characted was Teddu. Ofcourse I was running out of names.He was the second last to join the fam. He initially used to be around the basin, he had a huge hole in his stomach in which people would hang towels. Such cruelty. So we joined him. Though he didn't talk much, he made sounds cause he had bells. And lastly. Pinku. Pinku was the biggest teddy I ever got. I loved all . We were a family. I created my happiness with them.❤"}
{"text": "I miss the way we started. So mixed into each other. Like there was nothing left in life to do. Other than finding your lost crunchie, which I secretly wished you'd never find. Cause I like seeing your hair open. The way locks fell down in heat, and the way you got irritated. You were , not the Cinderella who lost her shoe. . You were the ones who wouldn't brush at times, which is gross. But you make sure, you do it when you meet me. I have stories. And I know they'd never end even if the night passed by. But I know you'd be still willing to listen. Everytime we fight, we leave. And we leave so fast, and it's time, and we're back. And I only know, we are capable, of more than just love. We are capable of destruction. And we're scared, that the small fire between us, would burn down the entire field, along with everything we own. What do we own? I own the beer we drank at 3 am on some random man's terrace. You drank three, I drank two. You own my tshirt, the one you wore cause you'd no extra clothes to stay. And I wanted you to. And you did. You own my words. And I own, wait. I don't own you."}
{"text": "I had joined a workshop for handling temper. I had got in with brother and I was eleven years old then. It was held twice a week. Sundays and Saturdays, 9 am to 4pm. They used to provide crap lunch, brownies and frootis for breakfast. Mom forced us into it when we were in Gurgaon at her friend's. There used to be more than three hundred kids at once,possibly more. The lady who gave lecture was NRI. She only made on strict rule You are not supposed to sit with people you know. Be truthful to yourself. I and brother never sat together. I wandered around, perhaps wasn't good at making friends. One day I sat with her. And life changed, we sat and talked, tried suppressing our laugh. Laughed a lot. We had the best jokes, she understood me and I didn't know how. I never explained her anything, still felt like she say to me Shhh.I know and it's perfectly okay. I fell in love with her, she wasn't crazy like me, instead she was calm but still was amazing. She told me her Dad taught in this workshop too. And her Dad wanted her to attend it as well. We sat together, we searched for each other in the crowd. Until this one day, she didn't sit beside me. I asked her why? She said, it's against the rules and she can't cheat her father. She promised him that she'1ll concentrate. I felt sad. She didn't sit. I was back to sitting alone in the crowd and sleeping. I used to still search for her. I could only see her sitting everywhere but beside me. One day I found her at lunch table sitting alone, having her home made tiffin. She didn't like the crap lunch these workshop people served. She felt different. There was a tone of sadness in her voice. I didn't ask her why. I wish I had. I never saw her again. But I never forgot her. I forgot her face, but I still remember her name, her words, every inch, every moment. Yeah I was in love with her, not the kind of boyfriend girlfriend love, but the kind of love one can never explain. I could never... Ending this with a quote I wish I knew how to quit you - Goodnight(11.56 pm)  I didn't edit. It's old. And it's amazing the way it is. Let it be. Let it stay. Let it."}
{"text": "Yeah. I like my nailpolish. Is that wrong? Maybe, maybe not.  Dear Diary #61  I am starting from right where I ended. And this is where I am. At 61 st. Which means there has been sixty times when life went breaking apart, creeping my nerves, filling me enough to write again. Don't misunderstand this with my other history, my poems and stories they'd really fill a different slot. But this. This is my place. I come here when I am sad, in pain or lonely. You're right. When I have no one,I come to you. Is that selfish? Cause, you don't leave. And people probably do. I am good with words, but not good with lies. Yeah, that's where I mess up. So, well say, when I want someone to stay for me. Do I really stay for someone?  That's what it is, right?  You're expecting people to stay for you, escape sleeps probably give you as their first priority. But give it a thought. Is there someone like you, probably expecting the same from you. And you don't reciprocate cause probably you don't want it. Why? Cause you don't feel something about this certain person the way you feel about some other person. And that becomes some entire love octagon. Triangle is just a baby.  I am there for you when no one is there for me. I am not there for you when people are there for me. Yeah. That is what I call honesty. Don't be sweet, be honest. Be it. So that you don't end up on someone's Instagram status termed as #fake. Atleast  it's better to be called rather mean and selfish. Right? In the end, we are all bad tales in someone's book, and what can we do about that? We keep doing it.  And yeah. I am upset. Cause,I am a bad tale."}
{"text": "I am still not used to typing your name and finding nothing. Our chat is stuck at November 12th,2018, where you last wrote pata nai. And till now I am trying to understand if that pata nai had something more that I couldn't understand, or failed to understand. It hurts. And it kinda does so much. You were this shard of peace, we owed to each other. From the mornings, where we spoke our sleepy thoughts to the nights were we slept listening the same damn song. It feels so hollow, and like someone just dug out a part of me from me. And I am ending up being nothing. And I kinda still wait at times... You promised that we'd go a long way, and I'd be the only thing you'd thank Instagram for. I guess I will do that too. But I am writing this, cause I don't write for people. And I had left that job years ago. And I am doing it again, and sadly, it's for you, and you won't be able to read this.  Ciao.  Phir miltey hai, agar zindagi ko manzoor hua tho.  Do you have hundreds words for me? Cause I have only three...."}
{"text": "You know, I wanted go out, live and breathe. But now, I don't. I feel helpless. Suddenly, like you feel home is a safe place. I wanted to go out discover the world, the nights and the days. But now I guess I want to turn myself into this cage. Lock myself in. The world suddenly feels scary,the world living and how, for some , even home isn't a safe place. Who is it? Who is next? I have been trying to find goodness in every being to just realize, I am wrong. There's no goodness. There are only people. People who want work done, people who are selfish and useless. People who don't know the number of stars over the horizon, people who wear face masks. People who talk about breathing, and can't breathe.  -counting the stars that left the sky"}
{"text": "I have realized something. When I was small, I picked this certain glass bangles that I really liked. These bangles looked like coloured circles of life, all colourful with tiny mirrors of self love in them, wrapped in transparent plastic of reality. I wasn't stealing you know, just picking up something I really liked,without paying. Unfortunately, the churi wale uncle happen to notice my not-so- thievery and I had to keep them back, cause Papa refused to buy me those. What's the point of telling you all of this? Aren't we doing the same act throughout life? We pickup things from people we meet. Kindness, love, hope and so much more. All of it is picked up. I would even say jealousy, cause the moment, we get to know someone is jealous of us, we start to get into doing the same, comparing. There's a difference in being taught something and picking up something. We mostly pick up. We pick up or definition of 'the glass bangles'. And payment? Payment is somewhat done in attachments, and every tome you do this certain picked up action, you recall the person who you picked it up from, and in most cases, these people end up being past tales."}
{"text": "Let's talk about the evening. I played badminton after 2 years. I played like a noob. Met a pro player kinda boy, jisne ache se bezatti ki, koi kasar nahi chori bande neh. I fell my phone twice kyuki pocket was too elastic. Phone toota nahi.  Then I played without shoes kyuki mai hawai pehen ke aayi thi and it wasn't supportable. I looked shitty but who cares. I was awkward most of the time but koi na hota hai. And now am sitting ghar ke darwaze meh typing this out. And honestly, mai phir kal jaungi thodi bezatti karwa ke aaungji kyuki yaar, bhai seekhna hai. 0 se hi sahi, let's just start."}
{"text": "They say, where there's love, there's no doubt. I beleive in it. I know when I am not ready. I Know that I can't wake up and jump into phone to wish a certain person. I know I can't sleep late, just to Keep up with the chats of a certain person. I won't keep my ambitions above you. I won't laugh at your lame joke. I won't necessarily say that I miss you each day for the sake of saying it. I won't send you instant selfies when you say that you wanna see me 'badly'. I won't do all of these. But if we are walking together, and if I don't see you beside me, I would turn back. Turn back to see, and if you're tired and we can sit. And for that, beleive me, you do not need to be my lover, just talking would do. We do not need keep up with some stupid streak. We can just be us, and ha ek or baat! I would appreciate it more if you compliment my poetry before the locks falling over my head. Heard enough tales of the spider and the fly, believe me, I don't go by flattery. And. I know who I am talking about. And you know all of this. And I just missed you. I am definitely not ready for love, all I Know is I am definitely up for sitting on the road to check whether a car hits me, and you can stand there to stop the car. It'll still mean something to me. Every relationship need not be labelled. Ours is infinite."}
{"text": "I will tell you why I don't want to tell you that you're someone that I think about.  That I keep my phone on full volume in the hope that you'd call. The fact that I lower the volume whenever I am away, cause the call is for me and it should be only me that picks up. I don't feel like adding on to the list of people you've to take care of.  The way it's morning and you look at the old dyed clock over the wall and certainly be thinking how the 'times' might never change. The exhaustion over your face, the slight smile, and way you wanna smile for the sake of it, to show everything has been alright and you're all okay. I will tell you. I want to be the leaf hanging through the window; a ray of hope. Something that you see everyday and recall that you still have got to live. Looking upon me, even if there's a whole lot of lined up stars over the galaxy. For me, and that I shall be walking by your side, even if I am a mere painting. But I am enough. I am the masterpiece."}
{"text": "...and they lived happily ever after. He kept writing her letters months after he stopped sending them. On New Year's Day he wrote that he hoped that she'd get everything she wished for. Then he tossed the letter into a box under his bed. He's stopped trying to bring her back.(taken from eleanor and park- a novel by Rainbow Rowell) I don't know, but, aren't we always looking forward to a happy ending? Though pain makes the tears drip, somehow making you remember the story. I have always wanted a happy ending for myself. An end where everyone's together and everyone loves everyone. I fear it might never happen. The truth better be spoken out, Everything good comes to an end and so does bad . But I'll remember and sulk about the good one. I don't want it to end, but it's like the hour glass running out of sand, all I can do is slowly watch it get over. And then? Reset. It's over. Make it again. Make it? You know what? Forget it. Just forget it. Sitting on some alien ground, watching the sky turn grey and then pitch black. The pearls makin a necklace over the sky, through the little light they got . My hands frozen, shivering, the cold. Hitching the court closer to me, letting the tears sweep down. Maybe we aren't weak, maybe it's just the work. The way it has been. And it will be. Shush. Tommorow is again tommorow. Let's build it again. Okay?"}
{"text": "I have lost them all, Even the bright stars and their magical light is gone. My soul has lost it's way in the busy street of life, And it can't wait. There's something mystic about the sunset in the evening, It's sad yet the most serene. All I can think is about his smile, The blush over his cheeks Like the very nerdy geeks. The way our stare game through the classroom,  Would go for hours, And still it would never be boring at all. The way your lips would turn red, With the just ate gola we had. The way our shoulders touched, While we sat together in the school bus That made us try looking everywhere but each other. The way you wept like a baby, When I was leaving You literally wept all your mucus on my churni enough That I told you to keep it.  The way you sat on the middle of the road, Your hands wrapped around my one leg, Creating a scene, Saying you won't let me go. I would give it a try, Realizing you're too heavy. I would just lean down And kiss on your head, And whisper the words, Those eyes would look at me, And I realize how much I don't want to go, As your grip slowly loosens And you let me go.  And now I realize, when I thought it would be easy to forgot, I am here, ten years later on the this very same street."}
{"text": "And still couldn't get over Will's death. Maybe he lived in the parallel universe. Just live Clarke. Just live. The entire song is beautiful. Maybe I am just obsessed with the ends. :)"}
{"text": "Dear Memories, I don't like the way you always slide away, even though I try to hold on to you. Though you never go away, you just slide down, getting replaced by new happenings. Like a pile, it's hard to think about you and remember you as it is. It's fascinating how, we make you in present, without even having a tiny shard of idea . The laughters, falling down, and laughing cause you fell down, your someone laughing, and you stand up, and fall down again, laughing because you couldn't stop laughing yet.That kind of you. That is what I am talking about. When I started to play, I remember my hands all sweaty. I was shivering, and it wasn't cold. And my heart beat was as fast as it could be. You know, the first was fine. Second day was the hardest. And third day? It was better. It kept getting better. I made friends, and you. And at this particular time, I am leaving it again. Sometimes it feels like, there's no use of investing in people. Because the certain time of it, will end, and things end up becoming one of you. Very few people make past that barrier, of personal space, being there watching like the moon from far away. Mostly, it's like the fixed things you'll pass by, they won't follow you. I kind of feel sad too. And ofcourse that line you know It will never be the same again thing. I kind of feel very bad about it. Looking back to the pages, I realize how long it has been. And things that made sense before, doesn't now. Change is perhaps the only constant we got. Maybe we only stop by the woods for a certain time, at the end, we'll have to keep going. Until we sleep? I am glad, I have you. Reminds me of, how vulnerably beautiful life has been. :)"}
{"text": "Days have passed on crazy. I believe it's how the whole regret thing works. When we have time, we think, we have got a lot. When we don't our mind thinks the reverse, I wish they gave more time. Life has got stuck in this cycle of blaming everything around, to an extent that have forgotten about myself. Every circumstance feels like a full stop. The extent to which you can pull over, and then you realize there's more. There's always more and more waiting. Now that I look back, it feels like I have stood long in the same place, and it's time. Time to move on. To a different destination? And a new damn place? More people and certainly more of life. Even though time has been passing away like sand, flowing away, but at this moment. I don't feel like holding on to it. I feel, I feel the urge to let it go the way it always has. Haven't written for a while. That's what I use my earrings for, these days."}
{"text": "And she felt it. She felt she was no more important. And whatever she did, for whoever, it doesn't matter. In the end she'll be alone again, cutting wounds, counting dead fireflies. Counting as if they might increase in number. People said giving your best- gives you everything you wish? She doesn't think so. Giving everything you have, might just end up empty. In a room left with just her. Sometimes she'd feel like to rip herself off, for giving away or being so dumb. She'd rub her skin until it would get red and realize just how more scratches and the it's out, the blood. She had too many scratches to heal. She'd wait for them to heal, and scratch them again. Oh did she do the same with her heart? She read lines about how living and existing are different. Most people just exist. And to live is great. But why are all the stories about beautiful gardens , without a torn lef, or the withered flowers that grew old, or the ones that got trampled? The thorns that might have gotten into the skin of the person who took care. She'd want to stop to exist. Trying out things like walking or drinking coffee might help. Something definitely can make her happy right? She's so much below the sea under the heap of regrets and memories and people. She can't breathe. And you can't hear her, can you?  -Under the water."}
{"text": "Dear Marnie, I have got a bunch of stuff to tell you. Chances are that you might be sitting on the arm chair along the firewood, with Kazukiho smiling by your side as you read this out. Somehow I like to believe that, you and him must've met again. He was your friend, and the guy you fell for, married and had a family with .I don't know where to begin from. I thought you were a friend of Anna, and that everything was perfect in your world. Rich parents, people to take care, and you, ofcourse so beautiful and so full of life. And then the picture perfect world shattered away, knowing about how it wasn't the way it looked to be. I beleive you came back to Anna, so that you could break away, the history that repeats itself. When you were small, a girl trying to look and be the 'good girl' and you were neglected. When Hisako said, you got married I heaved a sigh of relief, finally my Marnie has a happy ending. Except that it wasn't. And I don't want to repeat, but after you couldn't be there for Lily, you wanted and wished to be there for Anna. And you couldn't, but when you appeared, in the end you made Anna accept. It's always hard with the 'acceptance' part and it was. You know when you waved to Anna for the last time my heart broke away, like 'why' do you leave again? When you danced under the moonlight with Anna, that moment of peace, I silenty wished 'only if i could've had this' and that just might be your infinite? When you walked away with Kazukiho leaving Anna in there, Anna cried and shouted. She couldn't- I couldn't get it. Why did you leave? And that very last moment when you asked her to forgive, and she did. That smile you had, and now I do understand about it. People have theories, some say you were illusion, some say a ghost. But for me, the way you lived loved , and let life take away things from you and still smiled, I feel broken. Like you just pulled away strings of the guitar.That last song, Fine on the Outside felt like you might be just singing. Singing, sitting quietly, in yourself. And if you wonder who'll remember your name, and your face. I would. Forever. And you know what? Anna would too. : )"}
{"text": "Woh afsana jise anjaam tak laana na ho mumkin, Use ise khubshurat mod de kar chhodana accha"}
{"text": "Leaves fallen down all the way. A few trampled, a few bended over the joints, yellow and dried smelling of some old love. I wonder if these leaves ever felt remorse for not ending up in someone's diary? How beautiful it would be, to be picked up and loved? I wonder if these leaves just got old, or did they fell ? Why are love stories, that ever lived always were always incomplete? Why does this cupid's arrow feel like hell. This lady,I remember would gather all these leaves, every morning . Her old arms stretching in and out, occasionally fixing her crooked spectables. Sometimes looking at me she would give a silent nod. She smiled at times looking at the kids playing by. She would spend some time gathering these unwanted failings and then looking at the children would silently walk in. She'd toss the pile away in the fire. What a good flame? A flame of fallen life about to die. I wondered if it was a way to burial. A memorial to the ones who couldn't make it, or stay intact in the harsh winds. She'd at times sip through the tea and look through the window. Awaiting a storm, or perhaps rain, she'd wait for the autumn to come and a few more leaves to fall, knowing she's not the only one to do so. A written commandment of love over the yellow leaf, had lived through the years. And he's yet to come.  -the leaves that didn't make it through the pages."}
{"text": "We were smiles, she was. I do not smile much alone, cause doing that either means you're thinking about someone or you having a mental breakdown. Our smiles together wasn't the straight one. Where your lips form a perfect curve, and the eyes glow up. Hers was somewhat the way her eyes would go small, and form creeks. Her cheeks would puff up even and she'd try hard to laugh not more than that. But she would. And boy! I could look at that the whole day."}
{"text": "Only if life had a rewind button, I would have loved you a little more. I wouldn't have fought on Sundays for a stupid guy you met on, who might just potentially ruin things. If I had known, I wouldn't be leaving from beds on mondays, while you kept telling me to stay a little longer. If I had known, our kisses would have been a little more the infinities we talked about. Or I may have bought you that one more hamburger, that you yourself told me not to buy you, even if meteors come by. If I had known, I would have danced in the rain even without thinking we just might catch fever. If I had known I would have whispered my love, a little more about how, even if everyone is the day, I would still choose night, cause you live in it. I would have told you, that the entire sky would just be yours if you just wished it instead of telling you, how it just won't be easy.And that my heart sings for you in pain and grief and even in happiness. I would've told you, about how even after a million homes, nobody has ever felt my own. If I had known, I would never had let you go away that day. If I had known we just might have been different today."}
{"text": "She looked down, fixing the drapes on her saree, her hair open. Her earrings would make a little sound when they moved, it wasn't much, but enough to take in all of my attention. I could look at her and say that she was nervous. Her eye followed the room, looking for a comfortable someone. And that's when I come to play. I go ahead, and murmur a small hi, she replies with the same hi. And for a brief second she smiles at me, and I smile too, though we haven't got an idea about what's so funny. What are you smiling at huh? I say, and then she smiles a little more, and ahh I lost my heart just there, nothing, just that, you look good and I couldn't hold my eyes, she is making me blush. You too I say. We move ahead, a little, and it hardly had been a minute, when other girls show up. Our small little, understanding went into a big circle of greetings. I can say, a part of me was angry. Today of all days, I wanted her for myself. I was selfish, but who isn't? I moved out of it, enough that nobody did notice. Near the pond under the tree I sat, looking at the lunch I brought for us. I couldn't ask her if she wanted to eat with me, and now she might, but with her friends. Looking at the pond, I see a reflection, it's her but it's sudden. You? I say turning my head back to her. What's for lunch? She said in her chirpy voice. She sat down beside me without a word. I opened down the box. We ate. I had made,whatever she liked. Even if I didn't really tell, she did get to know. We talked after that till it was evening. It was time to go. We did not really take part in the events, or the games the other people played. But for that time whatever we did, even if it was just to talk, I am glad. In the end she held my hand as we walked back to the bus home."}
{"text": "If the stars breakdown, Do they get mixed in the soil, Do plants grow there and become trees, Do stars look at the earth, thinking of the grave of their old ones? Do they still mourn, gasping or they just blink? Is just blinking a mechanism to cope up with the pain? Or is it just some refraction of stupid lights which makes us think all of it? If stars could break away like that, why couldn't we? Why couldn't we just break away, like blast, Getting mixed away in the soil almost like disappearing from the existence of whatever we could've been. Our potential lifes? But that will never become real. I don't exactly know what all this is supposed to mean. But why do you wish when a star breaks away? I don't know . I just feel like we are somewhere the stars. Do you ever just think about it? It can we that all of us have one star that resembles us. Some people die everyday to put up to certain wishes of people. People are stars. All of us. And the sky is black. Moon is idk. Some beauty perfection shit. Everyone wannna be like moon. Can we just give attention to that tiny little star the corner? Look how amazingly it's all alone in there. The way it wouldn't form a constellation, be like everyone else. I guess I love it for that. Because. You still shine."}
{"text": "I have loved voice and the sound of it since I have heard one. Silences had always got something unusual about them. The way they like an invisible crippled up to you. Most of it meant bad news, where words would get caught right inside the lips before they could've even be uttered. There'd be something really awful about it, even though it was required to soothe the nerves every once in a while. I would sit between conversations, hear people speak, thinking it would fill up the little hole right near my heart. It never did. It made my heart beat harder instead, like a dagger slowly sweeping in. Soon, I forgot how to speak, hearing was all I did. It was clear. I wanted someone to fill up the void, but me. It was stupid, and temporary. Everytime the conversation would end, and again the silence would grasp it's hands around me. Talks and conversations were like the morning sunlight that'd get away someday, perish away. And darkness, the lack of light was the constant that I had been carrying with me all through the journey. Even with the sunlight, in there. Silences been more faithful and voice ever did."}
{"text": "Dear Adity who turned twenty seven, Hey? You there? Are you sleepy? If you're, go grab a coffee, wash your face, tie your hair like that messy bun, and now start. So, twenty seven? Feels great right? You know, I remember the last letter I wrote asking you if you got into love and things like that. Even if you didn't, I did. Yes, a lot has changed in the past one year. Reconsiderations have happened. You know today morning, maa woke up at five . She took a shower, put in some offering to the god, started into making mattar paneer. Exactly the one I like. I am unsure if anything could be a better gift. At night around 2 am I was in a voice call in discord with a couple of people. A girl sang a song for me, and my heart broke. It means something to me. Yes I was covering my silences. Bunny called me, she dedicated like seven songs to me, we talked about things. It's been a while you see. And and and, I got some red roses. For the first time in life. Yes I had red cheeks. And yes I am smiling while I write this. In the evening I dressed up, into the suit I had abandoned six years ago, and it fit me surprisingly. Granny looked at me for a solid 20 secs, took a note out and nazar utari meri. I couldn't stop laughing. I went down then, got my cake. Yes the classic Blackforest tradition. And then went for a walk. I did my favorite thing. Walked down on empty streets taking pictures of what made me feel something. My shadow looked extremely pretty. I was a bit scared of going into the dark places. I am afraid. I am sorry. Talked to the people I love spending my time with. Honestly got into a little row with one. But I don't think you'll be remembering who it is. Where you are, I am unsure if you'd even remember today. You're getting fucking twenty seven. I hope you're doing what you promised me. Being yourself. I have realized it's so hard to be yourself without judgement. I am trying to get over it. I hope you've too. Don't drink much. And don't smoke. What is important everyday is to showup, even if you don't win the field. Boring advices from a teenager is basically what you need right now. Yours Adi, Weird but okay."}
{"text": "What made you so pretty? Was it the morning sunlight that peeked in to say 'hi' through the curtains.  It couldn't have been. Maybe it was the rain this morning, that drizzled through the sunlight like fairy dust.  What is it about your sleepy eyes? Was it the peas in the breakfast, that you, passed in your sister's plate sneakingly or the fact that you forgot your calculator on your way to an accounts exam.  Maybe it was  air, you felt touch your face and leave you wanting more? What was it?  Certainly might be something about the day turning into dusk, the sky turning into ash.It must've had something to do with you, hasn't it?  Don't tell me it was those heap of assignments you failed to turn in before the day got over and let it slip once again to the next day.  It could've been those books, the once you studied, for they're very much capable of turning someone, dull and pretentious, but no, not pretty, or are they?  Wait, did I-"}
{"text": "Secrets. A few I have. You do not know them anymore. Stolen letters. The ones I stole from you, sailing them through the paper boats across the rainy street. The puddles of water splashing away, as every foot we set was a record. While still in bed, the words you mumbled, I stole, every morning while you dreamt daisies . I broke them with kisses on your forehead before I swept the curtains away and let the sunlight have the second kiss. Not all are as romantic as you think. I stole them before I even knew. The way you'd click your tongue during an argument and mumble a tensed 'come on' . The places where you'd just say 'I see' when you didn't know what to comment. The way you'd call me dude, like we were the closest thing. The way we’d talk about love as if we’d never be in it but always was. The half assed sorrys, mixed with ketchup over french fries. A goodbye we never heard but said every now or then. Damped hair and rain, a lot of it. And just like most of you, I’ll leave this half way. Maybe you’ll come around to finish."}
{"text": "Here’s a little something for you. A day. A heart wrapped in a sweatshirt. A cold winter with pecks of sunshine. The stardust falling off from your eyelashes like fairy glitters. The road filled the clatter of two souls, walking side by side. The street lights their perfect candle , perhaps a little brighter. Not enough stars to count in the wishes of a life falling off the subtle branch of potential. All the potential just turns into the ashes, sewn back into the earth like it finally belongs somewhere.  Empty canvases filled with white, a colour unseen, a little delight. The chuckle of a mad man. Words. Tons of them. Futile promises of a long period of time. A thief. Stolen kisses. Never a heart. Pages. Pages, full of people, but not one alive. Time turner. Turns in time. Turned days into nights. A crawl into a stumble, a stumble into a walk, finally he ran.  He ran so fast, that he leapt through dimensions. Parallel words where skies were brown. The sea was solid and the land melted down. Cinderella never lost her shoe, why would you part with something that fits you so well. Perfection was a myth. Or even so, is it?  A small offering to my dearest writer’s block, XD"}
{"text": "As I walk down the place, I wonder if I could capture it enough to remember. A part of me is scared of being used to it. When you're used to something, you stop noticing the details that make it pretty. It's like you stop playing with your toothpaste after a point in life. I want to capture it so much as to remember it. The way it feels like someone just threw a red colour over the sky, and trees and humans just looks like mere shadows of the dark. It all feels equal. It all feels blue and black. The little sparkles through the ebb, it's like seeing glitters through a painting. I wish I was a painter, and if I was I would be jealous of the person who made this art. I would think about every little thing they drew, and how can someone draw something so beautiful through the eyes of their mind? How can you?"}
{"text": "I can see you in snowflakes. Each one of them just sit right in the palm of my hand, and other rests on my nose. Its melting, and the feeling of it feels warm. Its like having you shower from the sky. Having you shower all over me, slowly, and you then seeing you fade away, slipping away through me. I ! wish I could hold on to you a little longer, but then that would not be you. | And so | let you go, and wait for you to come around, every year. I could be your sunlight, but you, you always have to go, or I could be your darkness, and then , maybe just maybe, you'll stay. Wont you? Either ways, I will be yours and yours only."}
{"text": "I can't sit here and tell you that you could be loved. For I haven't been able to do it myself and it's useless to preach things, you do not do yourself. But humans are such a species,that all can be loved. Even the monsters get loved. Why can't you be, there's no way that is possible. -one side of slop  Wrote this one fine evening. But since we talking about embracing the imperfections, I will do nothing about the imperfect grammar, or the way you don't even know who it is written to. Just plain lines that cut through your soul. Just them."}
{"text": "“Dreamgirl- Teenage Blue” This is the song that reminds me of the old-school romance I dreamt of as a kid. I thought love happens only once in life, and that people, stay a forever. More that someone is exactly the way to wanted them to be. This song feels like a stormy day. Everything seems amazing . Like a lullaby sung, a crib swong, everything moves back and forth,plants, trees, her hair, as if her scent is taken away by the wind. And you know it will never be back, but at this moment, it feels right.    Been more of a listener lately, and that reminds me of how music unroots the heart. Will share some. Music and thoughts."}
{"text": "I can see her. We run and run, laugh and laugh. As if everything belongs to us and the world is like inverted greyscales. She turns and looks at me and I know she is the one. Waves I can see waves, footprints. Another tear she shed, a flower in her hair, an umbrella flying away,another free soul. Busy roads, stormy fields possessed by her loneliness. her hair, it flies, I let it. she is beautiful.  Song that I thought about when I wrote this: CASTEBEAT- Change your mind Picture credits: from the movie Èmotion 1966"}
{"text": "I didn't know I will be tackling a space deficit, from the I don't have clothesssss to wear to the I don't have any space to keep transit. It's can give competition to those Instagram reels, but it was slow and I never knew I would have to. But cheers! Adi needs to let go her 12th standard notes (that she made very beautifully). I do not understand the attachment or the 'possession ' thing. I know that I would be ready to rip the gills of any fish that dare put their fins on what's mine, be it things that I do not need or read anymore. It's weird. Maybe it's time I actually let go. No, not a maybe. It's definite. We are making space for the new. 9th standard crush's birthday card is not what you need to get through college!"}
{"text": "THE ONLY TIME, A SERIES OF IRREGULAR PROMPTS #1  A long time after, fingers slipped, a chat with my old best friend. Dear diary, an ear for the ones, who want to speak, but are better with words, through the ink. A thousand secrets of adolescence, confessions of love, the lost age bundled up in sheets. This was a bookmarked page. A page, filled with a string of cupid’s wings and a lover's phase. Some drops of pearls had managed to make a mark on the yellow page, and there lay a heart. Just a heart, a little tattered, a little old, a little folded, like it has gone through generations waiting for the person. My name didn’t seem to vanish much. It’s still there in some imperfect words. A hand-cut heart out of a piece of red ,a chapter crafted with small hands, inking promises to always be there. And something was felt. The solace, of being wanted for once. And this is how I remember, the first."}
{"text": "# Reality check?\n\nI was walking around the street, in the corner was a bowl. A bowl full of sweets, so many. It looked like a treasure I could behold. Make them mine. A mere glance of the left and right and I approached it. My hand made it's way to insides, trying to fill my palm with as many delicacies it could gather. And it was all supposed to be mine- 000f dream. Reality check? I couldn't draw them out. Why? Because I wanted all-And you're about to give us a lecture on greediness right? No. It was because I wanted all. But the jar has this narrow head, and my hand would get stuck inside due the excessive mass. I opened my palm, releasing some. I picked out a few, sad about the ones I lost, forgetting about the ones I found."}
{"text": "# I Am Still Not Used To...\n\nI am still not used to typing your name and finding nothing. Our chat is stuck at November 12th,2018, where you last wrote pata nai . And till now I am trying to understand if that pata nai had something more that I couldn't understand, or failed to understand.It hurts. And it kinda does so much. You were this shard of peace, we owed to each other. From the mornings, where we spoke our sleepy thoughts to the nights were we slept listening the same damn song. It feels so hollow, and like someone just dug out a part of me from me. And I am ending up being nothing. And I kinda still wait at times...You promised that we'd go a long way, and I'd be the only thing you'd thank Instagram for.I guess I will do that too. But I am writing this, cause I don't write for people. And I had left that job years ago. And I am doing it again, and sadly, it's for you, and you won't be able to read this."}
{"text": "# Dear Diary #61\n\nI am starting from right where I ended. And this is where I am. At 61 st. Which means there has been sixty times when life went breaking apart, creeping my nerves, filling me enough to write again. Don't misunderstand this with my other history, my poems and stories they'd really fill a different slot. But this. This is my place. I come here when I am sad, in pain or lonely. You're right. When I have no one,I come to you. Is that selfish? Cause, you don't leave. And people probably do. I am good with words, but not good with lies. Yeah, that's where I mess up. So, well say, when I want someone to stay for me. Do I really stay for someone? That's what it is, right? You're expecting people to stay for you, escape sleeps probably give you as their first priority. But give it a thought. Is there someone like you, probably expecting the same from you. And you don't reciprocate cause probably you don't want it. Why? Cause you don't feel something about this certain person the way you feel about some other person. And that becomes some entire love octagon. Triangle is just a baby. I am there for you when no one is there for me. I am not there for you when people are there for me. Yeah. That is what I call honesty. Don't be sweet, be honest. Be it. So that you don't end up on someone's Instagram status termed as#fake. Atleast it's better to be called rather mean and selfish. Right?In the end, we are all bad tales in someone's book, and what can we do about that? We keep doing it. And yeah. I am upset. Cause, I am a bad tale."}
{"text": "# I Don't Own You..\n\nI miss the way we started. So mixed into each other. Like there was nothing left in life to do. Other than finding your lost crunchie, which I secretly wished you'd never find. Cause I like seeing your hair open. The way locks fell down in heat, and the way you got irritated. You were , not the Cinderella who lost her shoe. . You were the ones who wouldn't brush at times, which is gross. But you make sure, you do it when you meet me. I have stories. And I know they'd never end even if the night passed by. But I know you'd be still willing to listen. Everytime we fight, we leave. And we leave so fast, and it's time, and we're back. And I only know, we are capable, of more than just love. We are capable of destruction. And we're scared, that the small fire between us, would burn down the entire field, along with everything we own. What do we own? I own the beer we drank at 3 am on some random man's terrace. You drank three, I drank two. You own my tshirt, the one you wore cause you'd no extra clothes to stay. And I wanted you to. And you did. You own my words. And I own, wait. I don't own you."}
{"text": "# I Don't Own You...\n\nI miss the way we started. So mixed into each other. Like there was nothing left in life to do. Other than finding your lost crunchie, which I secretly wished you'd never find. Cause I like seeing your hair open. The way locks fell down in heat, and the way you got irritated. You were , not the Cinderella who lost her shoe. . You were the ones who wouldn't brush at times, which is gross. But you make sure, you do it when you meet me. I have stories. And I know they'd never end even if the night passed by. But I know you'd be still willing to listen. Everytime we fight, we leave. And we leave so fast, and it's time, and we're back. And I only know, we are capable, of more than just love. We are capable of destruction. And we're scared, that the small fire between us, would burn down the entire field, along with everything we own. What do we own? I own the beer we drank at 3 am on some random man's terrace. You drank three, I drank two. You own my tshirt, the one you wore cause you'd no extra clothes to stay. And I wanted you to. And you did. You own my words. And I own, wait. I don't own you."}
{"text": "# Counting the stars that left the sky.\n\nYou know, I wanted go out, live and breathe. But now, I don't. I feel helpless. Suddenly, like you feel home is a safe place.I wanted to go out discover the world, the nights andthe days.But now I guess I want to turn myself into this cage.Lock myself in. The world suddenly feels scary,theworld living and how, for some, even home isn't a safe place. Who is it? Who is next?I have been trying to find goodness in every being tojust realize, I am wrong.There's no goodness. There are only people. People who want work done, people who are selfish and useless.People who don't know the number of stars over the horizon, people who wear face masks.People who talk about breathing, and can't breathe."}
{"text": "# Person-#1\n\nThe guy am going to talk about isn't very special to me. He wakes up every morning around eight. I have a strong feeling he is an insomniac since all the night when the world sleeps, I see him awake. Struggling through the walls of his own mind I guess? As far as I have seen him through not many things make him happy, but I would sometimes see him smiling to himself as if thinking about someone really special. Sometimes I would sneak through his phone and see the gallery. I would see no pictures at all, I wonder where he hid them. Some nights feel never ending, all I can see is him, sitting alone. Sometimes tears would come through the corner of his eyes, and I wonder what pain he is hiding through his lies. Sometimes he would feel a complete different personality, the one you see with all, and the one alone. The one I see with people around is different, teaching me the basics of slangs. Happiest in all and I would never see a tiniest hint. The one at home is a bit different. He looks like he's been burdened with a load on his chest, a pressure to be one of the best. The one who's eyes are easy to be read and even the smile is unable to get me convinced, about the stamped. Even when I reach the depth it always feels like a desert oasis,however far I go, I realize it's even farther. He seems like a mystery,a puzzle unsolved. All I know that I've seen him smile even in pain and I know he's stronger than he seems. Friends and family mean the world to him. Friendship is something he's loosing with time, but I guess that's life. I am just hoping he will be okay soon, for there's a sun after a moon. He doesn't show it when he is hurt but I know he is. I really wish that he shared his pains to someone trustworthy, atleast which makes the weight on his chest reduce...and makes him breathe. To be honest the qualities of him if counted are like the stars over the sky. He burns like them through and I know he's magical too. The only message I want to convey to him, Sometimes being perfect isn't the best, for imperfections are supposed to be beautiful in itselfIt's okay to cry when you're hurt,And feel not okay at once. I am with you and many more. All I know is I don't see boys like this exist anymore."}
{"text": "# Not- so- thievery\n\nI have realized something. When I was small, I picked this certain glass bangles that I really liked. These bangles looked like coloured circles of life, all colourful with tiny mirrors of self love in them, wrapped in transparent plastic of reality. I wasn't stealing you know, just picking up something I really liked,without paying. Unfortunately, the churi wale uncle happen to notice my not-so- thievery and I had to keep them back, cause Papa refused to buy me those. What's the point of telling you all of this? Aren't we doing the same act throughout life? We pickup things from people we meet. Kindness, love, hope and so much more. All of it is picked up. I would even say jealousy, cause the moment, we get to know someone is jealous of us, we start to get into doing the same, comparing. There's a difference in being taught something and picking up something. We mostly pick up.We pick up our definition of 'the glass bangles'.And payment? Payment is somewhat done in attachments, and every time you do this certain picked-up action, you recall the person who you picked it up from, and in most cases, these people end up being past tales. And that's it. I haven't really thought about when we don't pay the price. And this is what makes my theory incomplete. But the thought, that you'd be tossing your head upside down with your hair falling beautifully against gravity thinking about it, makes me chuckle. And I guess I have succeeded on my part. Think about it. Yeah. Until then. Take care. -Ady"}
{"text": "# And you were just this another chapter.\n\nOctober,2016. We both had been heartbroken, crying in some dark alley, assuring our neighborhood aunts that we're fine. We were eating ice cream, one two many, actually I didn't count but well. We thought it would numb the pain and somewhere it did. The summer must've gone really fast, trying to find a new value to the life we once almost lost. She broke your heart. And he did mine. We were in a different city different ally and under a different sky.And actually, now I realize, I was never alone. When I actually felt. There were who knows a millions or more crying with me, walking alone under some streetlight some drunk some eating ice creams, some just walking. So that is why, I am using we.Now the fact, that we didn't break each other's heart then, makes up for now. Cause eventually we did. And I remember the promises we gave. When we give a promise, we mean for it to stay. And well. Sometimes it just doesn't. And you were just this another chapter I guess. Just another part. And I wanted you to be my story. The ending you know. The happy ones we talked about. Remember? So as much as I want to finish this book with you. I can't. And as much as I want to remember you, I won't. And so. I hereby break one more promise. Add this to the pile. And that is writing this here. Cause I want to forget you, but I do not want to forget the feeling of loving you. You're just a chapter, and yet the most memorable one. And I want to reread you.I wonder if this will happen again. Perhaps life is a cycle. What goes comes back again. Maybe, love will find me again. Maybe."}
{"text": "# 28th December, 2020\n\nLet's talk about the evening. I played badminton after 2 years. I played like a noob. Met a pro player kinda boy, jisne ache se bezatti ki, koi kasar nahi chori bande neh. I fell my phone twice kyuki pocket was too elastic. Phone toota nahi. Then I played without shoes kyuki mai hawai pehen ke aayi thi and it wasn't supportable. I looked shitty but who cares. I was awkward most of the time but koi na hota hai. And now am sitting ghar ke darwaze meh typing this out. And honestly, mai phir kal jaungi thodi bezatti karwa ke aaungi kyuki yaar, bhai seekhna hai. Zero se hi sahi, let's just start."}
{"text": "# 30th December,2020- Morning.\n\nOkay so it was really a funny morning this time. My Dad was roasting me like a damn almond and well me being me got angry. I took the racket and rushed out of home with anger in my veins and escaping the place. I really wanted to be away. So I did. So well, I was alright. I had planned that I will just juggle the shuttle cock and get some time pass without the peer pressure of PERFORMING. Before that I made sure if there was someone I could play with. So like the lost souls in the universe I was going around. And after two rounds something happened. I saw Piro! Now if you're wondering who is Piro, he is de pro player of badminton that I have managed to get myself done bezatti with two days in a row. He was there with his dog! His dog was cute. But unlike most people I didn't jump on the dog doing aloo aalaee lee kuchu puchu. I ran. And it was like every turn I took he was there. Since all the roads were connected. Every turn I took he was there. And then. Well I ran because I looked just same as yesterday. With the same racket and alone, with the same specs and same me, and I didn't really wanna look like those..who haven't got shit to do. Plus it's embarrassing. Then, I ran for my life. Like bruhh. It didn't happen like those Bollywood movies na. Girl meets boy boy meets girl awwww. Naaaah. I ran away like I saw a ghost. And I really hope he hasn't seen me. When we were playing in the park the other day someone has asked him where he lived. And he said nearby. I had brushed it off like okay. And now I didn't had an idea he lived this close. One part of me wanted to follow his ass, but most of my brain cells wanted to escape him Cause I didn't wanna look like, sad, and I didn't really wanted him to ask me if I wanted to play. It's all 5 pm. And I have never seen him this early. So well. That was it. I played in the ground after seeing the coast clear. Must've looked like a thief, with hoodie on and glasses and mask and hands in pocket. Like duhhhh. Do I know you? That's it yaar. If you've managed to read this long, without feeling bored or sleepy or just irritated. You've all my love. Shaam ko miltey hai..."}
{"text": "# 30th December,2020-Evening\n\nAlright. So today I am gonna talk about misunderstandings and okays. The evening today was nice. I wasn't sad, it wasn't bad. The guy I had talked about, Piro I met him again today. Played again. Lost again. Bezatti bhi fir se karwai. But today was different. I will get back to the different part. But wait. Let me talk about misunderstandings. The way Piro would ask me 'Khelogi?' was not exceptional. He did it with everyone. Yes, and here I was thinking too much. Now, Piro didn't do bezatti of me intentionally, he did this with everyone, misunderstanding number two. Piro played well. Piro tried to make me loose cause I was standing like a dumbhead. And I guess I gave him a shot back. And he lost. Blahh. Sorry I am lying. He didn't loose. But well, this was definitely some victory I got. He looked same, frizzy hair. It was funny how when he gave me the shuttle cock, our fingers touched and those two seconds become so awkward. I know it isn't supposed to feel awkward but it did. Piro ate away my shots. And then sulked about how I am just standing. And when I said it's because 'tum mera saara shot kha gaye!' He replied 'hum nai khatey na tho abhi tak tum out hoti!' And then we went back to playing. I didn't loose much cause I didn't play many shots but the once that came they went well. I wouldn't say I did too great, but it went somewhere above zero. There were so many misunderstandings. And I guess I will figure about more. Now, let's get to the other part. Okays. Yes. Let's say it together. It's okay if I miss shots. It's okay if I get out in the first ball. It's okay if I hit a person in the head with my badminton cause he freakin deserves it. It's okay if I stumble a bit. It's okay if I stumble a lot. It's okay if I get made fun off. It's okay. And when you speak it out. Say, it's freaking okay. You accept it. And you know what? Acceptance has a lot of power. You can't do good in something, if you can't accept the other things. It's not your kid rainbow world where you throw away the vegetables you dislike in your mother's plate or slide in through the window. You need to eat it all. Vegetables are costly these days anyway. You can't afford to throw it away. And the moment you start to enjoy it, it becomes easier, it becomes progress, it becomes something you look forward to, and I am looking towards a tommorow. Piro asked my name. He was the eldest guy in there. Other than him were kids, though those kids played well. So everyone out there called me Didi, and Piro yesterday called me Didi but i didn't feel like Didi. So today he asked my name, and I said it. And guys I am guaranteeing, this guy is older than me. So Didi holds no value. I do not add this to my acceptance speech. Haha. So be asked me my name, and that was it. I didn't ask him his. Though I wanted to. So well. I enjoyed today. That's it. I hope you guys didn't sleep."}
{"text": "# 31st December,2020\n\nTwo words to summon up a day, nice day. I met a girl, Aditi. Yes, it's funny right? Calling someone with your name? Now if you expecting me start with the flashback of how she reminded me of me at her age and stuff, you're wrong. She was nowhere like I was. She has beautiful hair, she played well, she could speak, she would speak up if she wanted something. The Adity of ninth standard I remember, would sit at last bench, the corner one, keeping her head down. Adity's best friend sat in the first One. This was not her will, but the teacher wanted it so. Maybe she felt they would talk less if she did so. And maybe she succeeded, making Adity silent. Yes, that's how Adity spent her time, re-reading her literature books, and writing about her. She would often speak about how she felt, and sometimes she'd write stories. Adity was no geek, she wasn't one of those with great confidence and some oxford vocabulary. She didn't wanted to write. She did, because she wanted to pass time. She did because she didn't really had anyone she could speak to. Anyway get over with boring flash back already!!! So anyway I met this girl Aditi and she played well. Piro didn't come to play today. I played with other kids. Obviously I did play a lot today cause Piro wasn't there to eat away my shots, but then I somehow missed it. Also then, Aditi happened to be playing with him almost daily, and before me. So well, i managed to dig in some information. But hey, I didn't ask his name she said it herself. I am not to be blamed. She also said he was somewhere seventeen. I was guessing him to be the college guy, but seventeen is probably 11th or 12th. And somewhere hope he isn't in 11th varna he will start calling me didi. Ewww. Piro's real name is Ishaan. Stop, I am not blushing you're. So stop. Hahaha. Okay. I think he must've had some plans. I dk why I felt like I should've had some plans too. End of the day, I played a lot today. I improved ofcourse. And I managed kids. Normally Piro(i will call him piro only, cause he didn't tell me his name himself, can't call him) would manage them all, otherwise they'd rip each other apart. But today I kinda managed. Pro tip: Phone ghar pe chor ke jana, you know why? You will feel like freedom. Stop hiding phone ke peeche. You may feel shy for two or three days, but then trust me, you'll blend in. I have. And I love it. and I hope to see him tomorrow. Haha. He is just the only person near my age isliye itna soch rahi hu. Zyada kuch nahi hai!"}
{"text": "# 1st January, 2021\n\nFirst of all. Happy New Year!So, today was, not so good but okay. I had headed out of home at 4.17 pm because I had tutions at six. And I didn't wanted to rush the play. Let's talk about, the new kid. I am so sorry I had asked his name but I have forgotten. He was a good player too. He was in ninth standard. And he was good. It isn't like a new character. He has always played with Piro and going in the same place four days in a row, thodi jaan pehchan tho ho gayi thi. So this new kid, was very respectful. He was great. We played together in doubles. And I made him loose twice. And I am sorry about it. But, I didn't see him frustrated and all. I mean the way you say, it's okay. It's fine. Let me tell you, till then Piro had not come. And I somewhere waited for Piro. Okay so I am gonna call his Ishan from now. Cause this Piro thing reminds me of, how amazing he is, and I don't really want to remember it, I want to play and from now on I will only concentrate on that. Ishaan had not come till then and I had lost twice. We had gone out of court giving the others a chance to play. The ninth standard kid told he has got some work so he's gonna head off. I was standing absentmindedly thinking about how Ishan might not come today as well. It somewhere gave me a feeling of a different sunset. The aunty. Let me tell you. When I was busy in all of this, I saw a lady roughly to be in her fourty or fiftys sitting with one racket. She happened to ask something from me. Hey do you know any tution for maths nearby? I heard the question and then I asked the standard she wants it for. She also happened to be needing it for ninth. I dismissed the idea saying how everything is online these days and the coaching I study mathematics in teaches higher secondary mathematics. And then making a move I asked You don't want to play ? She replied Actually , my son had come to play football. He also brought this one racket. But I don't have a shuttle . Let me tell you one thing about me. I always carry a shuttle. I slipped out my shuttle asking if she wants to play. Unlike what I had thought the lady got up, holding phone and purse in one hand and the badminton in the other. I asked her if she's gonna play holding all the stuff. She said it's fine. She'll manage. And boy; she did. She played well. We had played for some real time. I don't really understand the problem with me. I do well with one on ones. But the moment we slip into doubles or triples I start to suck up. Anyway, so she was a calm lady and she played well. Honestly I wanted to play with her more, but then her kid peeked his nose through the nets of the racket demanding his racket back because he'll play. I wanted to grand slam that kid, because man he wants to play with some damn strangers when her own mother plays so well. He can just play with her. Can't he?! The mother sat back on the bench again, looking at other kids play. I went back and joined the group of kids. By this time Ishaan has joined us. Good news and a bad news. Ishaan didn't made fun of me today. Other kids did. Yes, I was the famous 'didi' jo aatey hi chali jaati thi. Haha. They were kids come on! I don't know why Ishaan just didn't made fun. Instead he just said tum thak kyu jaati ho ek maarke? And I didn't say much. I did some shots today as well. It was only after Piro told ki bhai 'Adity' ko do shots miss karna allowed karo. And everyone listened. I mean yeah. He even knew kaunsa shot mai miss karungi. I guess I have made some pattern till now. Kids be like, didi ko shot do pehle voh miss karegi. Now thinking about what he said, why do you get tired itna jaldi? Stamina?! Why do these kids play so well? Peth se tho sekh ke aaye nahi hongey. Then? Kids have energy. Kids are flexible. Kids are fast. So now Adity kya karre hum yeh jaan ke? If you notice Ishan closely, he is so active, and fast, and he can plan his shots. What do I need to do? Work on energy, flexibility. And stop DAYDREAMING. Ek sapna batare hai. I didn't ask his name even today. Didn't ask his class even today. And I think to just let it be. Don't add expectations to the pile of resolutions, because they definitely gonna break."}
{"text": "# 2nd January, 2021\n\nNew achievement unlocked. Got myself hit in the stomach with a football. If you're wondering where the big ball came in from, in the beautiful game of badminton. Let me enlighten you, it came flying. It hit me. The girl if you remember her, Aditi was standing just beside me. She talked about how she also got herself hit once. Ishan was on the other side, and he asked the guy who was playing football if has special obsession with girls. I kinda started laughing and trust me I couldn't stop. I was playing and laughing. These kids playing football took advantage of the kid card, and played right where we were playing. So I got saved thrice after that from patt se headshot. It was really fun to play today. We played a lot. And the kid I talked about yesterday, I asked his name from him again today. It's Ronit. So something was off with Ronit today cause he was missing shots and hitting them like a flower. The guys were smashing each others asses. You can guess the aim, the point where the upper and lower part of the body meet. Ishaan again asked my name today. He was juggling the shuttle and asked 'Naam kya hai tumhara?' And I asked back 'Mera?' And then he be like ofcourse tumhara, mera? He said mimicking my voice. I told him my name, asked him his class though I had guessed it would be twelve and it was twelve. Today we played off the court cause a couple of kids were already playing. I did made many shots today, to be honest I even stole shots. And I made fun of Ishaan today. The incident went like I gave him a bad shot a lot towards the right. So he said kaun hai udhar? Kisko de rhi ho? And then 5 secs later he did the same. So I mimicked him and said kaun hai vaha? Kisko de raho ho? And be smiled and said Achaaaaa . It was really nice playing today. And well. I think I have started to blend in. My body didn't pain much today. A good day. Let me tell you some tiny secrets about today. Well honestly, everyday I try something different to know what suits me. If you're a girl reading this and you really want to play, remember somethings for comfort. And all these points are something I have gone through. Trust me you'll feel confident. And found remedies to it. And when you're able to look above these four points all you need to do is play. These are some things that always distracted me. Guys I am telling you, it was a 1 today. Above 0. I played till 6.05 today. Usually I'd move out at 5.50pm. Today I am ending this abruptly, not every ending needs to be perfect."}
{"text": "# 3rd January,2021\n\nNote: Start reading from 28th December if you're new. Happy reading! Today I managed to have a swollen hand, cause I banged a girl, like kind off collided with her while we wanted to hit the same cock. And if you find a lot of double meaning in this sentence. Congratulations, you've the same brain as me. And in case you're still trying to figure out, congratulations again, you'll go to heaven. But this action sequence happened towards the end. Let me tell you from the beginning. I had reached our usual place by four fourty p.m. I was quite ready. Ishan wasn't there in the ground so I figured out he'll come a bit late. One part of my brain wailed in disappointment, thinking about the dark side of what if he didn't come today? What if? The court was preoccupied by some other kids today as well. We were actually the same group, but they'd been playing a tournament kind thing. So it wouldn't be free for a while. Likewise I told, I always carry a shuttle cock with me, me and Aditi planned to play without the court. There was a new girl I was today. Let's name her NG1. So NG1 appeared to be Aditi's friend. I kept playing the shots and handling both of them alone. It was fun I won't lie on that. We were in betweens joined by two tiny guys. Alright, any guy smaller than me is tiny. So I am definitely not talking about infants. And then, wind started to rush through like every place, the sand flying away while everyone closed their eyes. My hair automatically got opened, coming on my face while I tried hard to get it back, and then Ishan entered and the our eyes matched. If you're thinking that I am faking all of this, then you're really do know me by now. In real, he just joined in getting some of my attention and nothing on ground really changed. We aren't in Karan Johar's movie right. Let me tell you one more thing. I don't know how this mechanism works but whenever I am playing in front of Ishan I somehow get out early! So it was planned that boys getting out after two misses and giving next person a chance and three misses for girls. Normally I would jump upon my feminism card, but I thought what's the issue? This time a guy in there said Girls will also get two chances. Why special for them? And to this question, I wanted to know Ishan's answer but he didn't speak. And then it was changed to two misses for everyone irrespective of gender. I didn't say anything. The boy did have a point na? So me being me got out after sometime. Obviously I would wait for that long so I started to play with a new girl, let's name her NG2. She wasn't really good at it and missed shots, she kinda reminded me of me on first day. And then Aditi joined in us after she got out too. Let me tell you, these guys play exceptionally well and zabardasti nikalne ke peeche padey rehtey hai. Then, after a while the court ka manager started to yell saying he'll repair the court so we need to leave. The place where I live in we have plenty of courts at 1 km distances. So it wasn't a trouble. We walked into the other court. It had become dark till then. There were some lights on the court, and the switch was high. Ishaan has some good height so he clicked it on. But the lights didn't get on. I remember the comment Ishan said Light bhi series meh lagaya hai, kuch andar ka problem hoga and I had immediately guessed he must be science. Since the lights had ditched us we planned to play in the dark. And trust me, we were hitting the shots blindly. I couldn't even see the cock. NG2 and Aditi has followed us. There were two other guys whom I won't call kids, cause they appeared to be Ishan's friends who came too. I am real bad with names, as you can guess. So we played in the dark and by 6 pm most of everyone went home. And then it was just Ishan's two friends on one side, me and Ishan in the other. And then I asked. Konsa stream? And he said Science  and then I replied Humko pata hi tha! And then he asked kaise? And then I retold him about the series connection part. And then he brushed if off saying how ninth class kids can also identify. And then he asked me The conversation went like Aur tumhara?  Commerce with maths  I said while hitting another shot. Commerce with kya? He asked. Maths I said. Oh acha tabh thodi izzat hai tumhari. And then I got to know that he is in ISC board too. Then NG2 changed places with Ishan. And I was almost about to go since it was already six. I insisted on a last shot. And while playing the last one, we couldn't see each other much as we were concentrating on hitting the shuttle. I hit the shuttle she hit my hand. She apologized and I think it was alright. Things like that happen in a game. But now here am typing this with one left hand since my right hand has been bandaged with Move. Maa said it will not pain today but tomorrow. However, it was a great day. And yeah, I manage to tease Ishan these days. And the way he answers Achhhaaaaa while smiling makes my butterflies active. It's the feeling that you made someone smile, and gives me a feeling of being something. Existence. Like I hope there'd he this day I won't come and someone asks Where's Adity? That kinda feeling. And it's worth a billion dollars, that feeling , in just one smile."}
{"text": "# if I were her-1\n\nMom cried the first time she saw me go, I was happy, I told her how my first day of school was. She did not look at me. She stared into blank space. I could see my reflection in her now glassy eyes. they looked like looking into sidelines of a beach. She did not blink. But when she did, as if pulling a lever to a dam, the water pulled out. It started with one small drop as I saw, but more drops followed. I shaked her, Mom why are you crying? Arent you happy? . She stared into blank space. Minutes later she came back to me. She said Lets celebrate our first day eh? and we walked down holding hands, her asking what else happened today? and me going on about it."}
{"text": "# what if? -2\n\nToday she came back home late. The liner against her eyes was smudged. It was a daily thing, and so who'd notice? I never did. But today there was a different abruptness in her actions. She tells me to never eat in bed. She ate in bed. Her hands were shaking while she held one end of the spoon. Had she gotten so old in a day? my eyes followed her figure through the dark. She was done and had turned off the lights. As she slowly slid in under the warm sheet, there was nothing. I think she was asleep. I waited for her hand to land on my temple, as she'd pat me to sleep even if I was already asleep. It was her love language. She did not speak it that night, or if she did I would not know. I feel asleep waiting."}
{"text": "# midnight memories-3\n\nIt was midnight, when I saw it. Can you guess? may you guess? No. I saw something. In beneath the sheets, the awful darkness that engulfed us, her and a movement. I had woken up in the middle of the night and felt as if the bed had been shaking. A soft muffled voice hummed through the pitch black night. Was it a song? An answer. No. It was her beside me rolled into a ball of her despair. She tried her best to keep it as soft as it can. It was not music. It was a cry. A cry that took me too long to understand. It was not music. It was not beautiful. I saw broken parts of her that were wanting to be stitched in back to her. But it would still hurt. It did. But I would not understand, for I fell back to sleep."}
{"text": "# spacing out\n\nWhat are we if not looking at plain space, never blinking eyes, never moving lips . I am almost scared that your eyes would be watering in a while. Kudos to me for ruining my blog with such a random post. I love to be loved. Who doesn't? me. I do not like to be loved at certain parts of the day and other times I do. Writi"}
{"text": "# 4th January, 2021\n\nNOTE: Start from 28th December if you're new in here. Happy reading.<3 I will tell you something, I am giving a mathematics exam, and the first sum goes wrong, and then, the second one too. Will you be able to solve the third? In most cases you won't, even if you knew it, even if it was easy. You know about the first day of college? And you're allowed to be anyone you can, no one really knows you. A clean slate, and that'll be you for the next three years. I am playing badminton, and I have fucked up the first ball, the second too. I got out. I played again. I again fucked. And do you think after that I will be able to, play? I'd say the first few minutes of a game decides who will win and who won't. And it's not about the shots. It's the attitude of a person towards loosing. A person like me, will fuck up the whole match. And you can guess the reason. Confidence. And when you fuck up your first balls, everyone out there knows. They don't know who'll win, but they sure know who'll loose. And that feeling, is something I can't describe. I sure do can, but at this moment, I am at a shortage. Shortage of words, confidence, people, oxygen, and me. It's funny how in a normal day, if good things and bad things happen together, we'd still call it a bad day. So let's talk about the good day first. Today Ishan was there in the lawn before I reached. He was playing as usual. And then I joined in. And you can guess what things might have happened. I will tell you what I did after getting lost. Ishan was standing. And I was standing behind him. And obviously I didn't had anything better to do. So I started checking him out. Like the way he'd keep one hand in pocket and play with the other, and occasionally slide his rectangle spectacles up. The way he was so slim, and by the time I reached a bit out of nowhere Ishan turned. I had thought only girls had this impulse of knowing when someone is checking her out, but appears like Ishan has that too. At that certain moment I pretended to be looking at the beautiful sand ground. And after he turned in the front I couldn't stop laughing. Then let me tell you about how I wrote my name in the sand. Aditi NG1 and NG2 didn't come today. So I was anyway feeling lonely. Like I don't know what it did. But them being there just felt nice. Today I didn't get a chance to play much. I was rather just being there. Let's get on the bad side. Firstly, is that little kid, who said to give me so that I can get out first. Then there was this particular moment when I was getting into the court and Roshan(good badminton player/Ishan ka dost) said it's his turn. And then Ishan said 'Jaane dena ladies first' and then Roshan responded 'Areey aseh nahi chalta' and then Ishan said 'Areey asebhi 2 min meh out hoke aajayegi' and damn. Do you think I will play after that? And then I was about to go and it was almost six, and then I asked for my shuttle cock back, and they were still playing. And then I asked Ishan. And he said Areey chota bhai samjh ke dede please  and trust me I wanted to cut this part out of my blog, but then I didn't wanted to cut out the reality part. And then I shouted Ishhhhhhh right after he said that and I guess he got his answer. But then I gave him the cock, like okay give it back to me tommorow. Honestly it wouldn't matter to me, like damn, okay, it's fine. I will go tomorrow and make it clear that I am not interested in brotherzone or I don't know whatever zone it is. But then when I got home. Dad opened the door. And then he said Acha voh mai na gaya tha ground meh, tum khel nahi rahi thi bus khaaddi thi and that was it. Why the fuck will he spy on me. Whyyy. Whyyyy. And then Dad started to talk to, khelna nahi aata..  sab ladke the udhar  isko koi khilata hi nahi hoga  bekar.. and then. Then my brain being my brain fucked up. And here I am sitting writing this out. And after this I am gonna shower some negativity. I am feeling embarrassed. Of myself. So be out if you don't want to feel it, don't worry I won't mind. I am so used to it. I am so plain and ordinary and I have no idea what still is there. I have been to places met people and they've done nothing else in life other than prove me once more how ordinary I am. How I can't ever fit in places or cross roads. How I can slang back a bastard or kick someone in the ass. All my life, I know it doesn't amount much time that I have lived. My sixteen years of existence, every real person I have met, they've always told me. Told me that how wrong it is, to be kind or good or patient or just you. Kindness does cost a lot, who says it's free? Who said?! I want to stop thinking about everyone around. I want to answer back a kid without thinking twice that he might get hurt with my harsh choice of words. I don't wanna think about so many people at once. Cause it's useless. They won't do the same for me. They won't. Stopping for the world is so, easy to say, but it hurts when the world moves on. And you're left with nothing, just a being good tag and regrets."}
{"text": "# 5th January, 2021\n\nNote: if you're new here. Please begin from 28th December. Much love <3 Isn't it so funny, that you always mess up in front of the person you like? The way it is, like the moment he's beside you, you get so nervous,and there's a certain chill in the body, and you seriously can't rub it off. And you constantly think, that you mustn't do something that makes it obvious. And that's how cool ki jagah fool banjatey hai hum. Have you seen those daily dramas, how the moment it gets boring, the writer either kills someone or generates someone. Little did I had an idea that real life would go like that. I know you're confused. Trust me, I am too. Today, again Ishan was already there in the ground before me. And the last day that I had given him my cock, it has managed to survive somehow. And I had the little birdie for five seconds roughly, and then Ishan asked for it again. And I made that face that says Jab lena hi tha tho diya kyu?! I am real bad with remembering names. Today NG1 had come. Do you remember her from the last to last day? Hopefully. So NG1 came again with Aditi. I have figured out two things. 1)If you're in Ishan's team, you'll never loose.2) You'll never loose because you won't get to play only, cause he will hit each and every shot, and you can fold your arms ahd wait like a dumbhead for the cock to reach you. So Ishan was in Aditi and NG1 's team. Now that you'll need some introduction of her. NG1 is beautiful. NG1 has silky straight hair. NG1 knows how to play well. NG1 knows how to cooperate with Ishan and not confuse him unlike me. NG1 has a friend with her, Aditi. So they played and kept playing. I seriously have no idea what's going between me and Ishan, cause he be asking me Out karde tumko kya? and I be like Nahi and then he be nodding and making someone else lose. So Aditi, NG1 and Ishan played together for a long time. I was out. So I kept seeing her. I mean okayyyyyy. I am a writer I gotta observe naaaa! And then the way their chemistry went so good. And the way Ishan wouldn't even look at me while he be playing with NG1. The way he'll ask her if she wants to serve. The way he hardly asked me if I wanted to server. The way she never let him down like me. The way she was just someone he can laugh with and share jokes, while I looked around with bored expressions. Do you smell something burning? I guess I left the gas on. And then I didn't go much into the court. Like 'hey' I don't wanna sound bad, but if I can't play then why should I stay? And then when I wouldn't get much to play inside the court cause they're simply so many people and I'd get out doing silly things. Ronit, if you remember the ninth class boy was off today as well. Something has been cooking in his brain lately that I feel. Cause he simply looked lost. He was playing outside the court. So I joined him. We played a lot like that just one on one. And that's how I realized, I don't suck, I get confounded, when there's more than one person in the field. And so I fuck up the triples and the doubles. I really enjoyed playing with Ronit. And I was all sweaty, like every part of the body aching. Ishan also joined me and Ronit for five minutes. And his opening lines to me were  Abb hum agaye hai na tumko khelne nai denge  and then I shouted to Ronit Oyeee isko mat dennnnaaa but then Ronit is a confused alliance. And then Ishan played for a while and I did too. I somehow was happy cause I didn't fuck up then, that I usually do getting under the Ishaan red zone. And time flew away. It was around six that I realized I need to be home. One line that Ishan told me in between game was Tumhara cock aatmahatya karne wala hai and I knew it had already broken the way they were giving smashes. I laughed. And I actually did. I asked Ishan a few questions like when does he study and when he comes to play. I won't share that detail. But now, I guess it has become a ritual. Two questions per day, and few moments. I am confused though a bit. Ishan confuses me, sometimes he calls me aap sometimes tum. And I don't know what I am yet. I have never heard him call my name much. It's mostly for Aditi the ninth one. And he didn't really get a reason to call me by by name. I hope he does."}
{"text": "# 6th January, 2021\n\nNote: Start with 28th December, 2020 if you're new. Happy reading. <3 Fairy tales. I am in my fairy tale. And every word he says, feels like more than he said. I hear it exaggerated. The world goes blur, and there's this spotlight all over him. And all I can see is him. But now, these lights have blinded me, I really can't see anything. Where am I? Who am I? Is Adity just this? Just plain and normal and ordinary dying for attention from a guy she'd met a week ago. Wasn't Adity the girl who'd talk about skys and caged birds and dreams? Well I am still in a dream. And I guess it's time to get over with it. Today, Ishan had come after me. And we played. I'll say I did really better than usual. And I was good at it. However I didn't really get a chance to play with me and Ishan in the same team. A part of me said, you winning cause he isn't in with you. What does he do to me? NG1, you remember her? I have managed to remember her name today. It's Rupsha. Ishan played with Aditi and Rupsha again today. Rupsha is good. And trust me Ishan would fight for her. Even say she isn't out even though she clearly is. He'd really play great with her. And she's nice. I know I am basically repeating all the stuff that I said yesterday and it's basically because it's the same thing that happened. I didn't talk to Ishan much today. I didn't even play much with him today. Cause he started to play one on one with one of his good player friends, Virat. I saw him from far away and it was just that. Aditi and Rupsha by the end of the day started to talk to their girl group of four friends. Ronit the ninth grade boy, he was there in the beginning but then he disappeared. And I really do feel something gravely wrong with him. Though I'd say it maybe just teenage swings. Ronit was mostly the only person I'd talk to without being awkward. And some kids randomly. So Ronit not being there made me sad. And I felt. Wait, I didn't feel anything. It was 6.50 someone had said. And I walked and walked going away from the ground. And I hoped someone would maybe even ask Jaarhi ho kya? But no one did. Even if they did I will never know. But I won't keep my expectations up. I played hell good today. So don't worry about that. But I have thought something. From today, I won't talk, about him. I won't notice his hair or the way he swings his bat. Or the way he fixes his specs up. Or the way he takes up stand for another girl. Or the way he doesn't notice. Me. And I know it's too much to ask for playing the same game with someone for eight constant days. So hereby, I make him easy for him. As well as me. This doesn't mean I won't talk about him. It's just that, he won't be. Noticed. Just normal guy I play with. No Piro. No smiles. No expectations. No sighs. It will be I and me, and them. Not him and me and them. I know I have been breaking language rules quite a many. But then, art isn't supposed to look nice or perfect, or beautiful, it is just supposed to make you feel something. And if I have managed to make you feel it. Then trust me. I don't feel alone. And I know today was smaller than you'd expected. But this is my life. And I can't kill anyone out, or add someone in. They'll happen naturally. And I hope, nobody dies. Do me a favour, will you? Please be careful. About yourself. When you go out or meet people . I hope hangouts can wait. I know I go out daily and it's a funny thing hearing it from me. But, I make sure I wash myself well when I am back. I make sure I don't get close to people. I make sure I don't touch anyone. And I know work doesn't wait. But please, please be safe. I really don't want to loose anyone. Please. I am scared. A lot. So do this for me. Much love <3"}
{"text": "# 7th January,2021\n\nNOTE: Start with 28th December,2020 if you're new. Today, let's just talk,life isn't supposed to be full of twists each day. So today, I had reached there before, someone . And I played well. It was just me Ronit and a couple of other people playing before someone joined in. When someone plays, he plays it so well that I get relaxed. And I miss the shots coming my way. So a very funny thing happened and I am still laughing over it. Ishan(also called someone) hit a serving and the opposition had a kid. The kid was standing in the back, and the other two players were in front. The kid is tiny, so you can make a whole scene now. So when the shot went to this kid, he hit it in the wrong direction, and the cock hit the sides of his racket,so the shot ended up hitting up his team mate's ass. And that too right in the middle. And it was some legendary moment. Everyone started to laugh like crazy. And today, like the pledge I took yesterday I didn't look at Ishan much. I mean, I almost was playing like an individual who only wants to play, and that's it. Nobody else matters. Right? Ronit today did play a lot too, it was all shuffled up. I played almost well today. You'll say today Ishan left early, so it was all me and my tanhayi(cliche). It was the first time I had seen him go early. I kind off wanted to maybe stop him and ask him the why and where. But I didn't. He said he's going, to his friend Roshan, and he walked away and kept walking. I saw him until he got out of my vision. Sounds pretty dramatic right? I will even tell you, me and Ishan had a one on one thing, and it went great. I guess to some extent, I have upgraded from the noob category. Though I will say I didn't really care when he went. And I won't count the part where I asked his friend five times about 'why he went early' because he forgot to answer me four times. I was just asking. It's allowed right? The girl group was also there today. The girls were nice. They too played well. Twp new girls had joined us. Let me make a serial number. It was two new girls. So the girl gang has, Aditi, NG1( Rupsha), NG2(still don't know her name) , NG3(Deepa-new girl) and NG4( new girl but not so good player/ reminds me of me a week ago). And dayum, I still can't understand how these people manage to make friends. I hope I remember their names. My neck basically pains right now cause I had shouted a lot on everyone so much. These guys play badminton, and it's fine, but why do they get so close to each other? And they don't wear masks because they're playing. So I kept shouting from far away to stop getting into each other's asses. Okay I said it in a more decent way though. Roshan is almost equal to Ishan in certain ways. He is a muscular guy, but definitely knows how to use brains, has a good height. Who'll believe he's just fifteen and in ninth? And he'll be sixteen this January. I had over heard him and Ishan discuss this the day before yesterday. I will tell you, this guy got some warm blood, cause when I was playing with him, and when someone did something or fucked up, he'd murmur slangs to himself. Don't overthink me talking about him, I am didizoned. And I don't mind. But somewhere I feel, like the world is conspiring against me, like every person I meet will make me their sister and talk after that. Though I think it's nice in a way, cause the respect you get, you feel nice. And plus, apnapann sa aajata hai. But okay, sab bhaiya bann jayenge tho saiya kaun banega huh? And I can already hear the right guy theory. You'll know when it's the right guy. The right guy won't zone you, the right guy will wait. The right guy will hold your hand and walk on roads. The right guy, will like all of you and you won't really have to pretend. The right guy will know the vulnerable side of you. But you know something? You'll take the right guy for granted. And then, then he'll stop trying. And then you'll have your ego. And then he'll have his self respect. And then, you two will fight, and almost break up. And then you'd agree on giving it a break. And then you'll get separated cause the break stretched too long. And then you'll meet him some years later. And history shall repeat. He will again fall for you, and you? No, this time you'll fall even more. And this time it would be equal. And you'd not let him go this time. No again. So the cycle is in your hands. I love the way I started it, and I kept walking and this place that I have reached is broken but beautiful, and I know things won't happen like this. You may not meet him again. And that's it, maybe he wasn't your Mr. Right at all. Okay so after I played, I went around the stationary shops to buy some artifacts for my project. I was happy to see that ninty percent people wore a mask, and we had ten percent of le-jhandry people. And I have been avoiding eating outside food somehow. Pataka bhi tho banna hai! I have been trying to work on myself. Four months to boards right?"}
{"text": "# 8th January, 2021\n\nNote:Start reading from 28th December if you're new. You knew it all this long, didn't you?  Knew what?!  Come on, don't beat around the bush, I know you, and you knew it and still you did it  Yeah, I did.  You knew all this while, about the whole attraction thing and still you kept writing kept feeling, and you knew that it will be- Temporary. Yes I knew it.  We are same right? You're me and I am you. And how many times more, will you?  I want to stop and I am trying. I mean.  Adity, you're hurt, and you know it. And you knew that all this while it had never been a person you've been writing and liking. It was just the way, you seek help of one person to forget another, and you knew that it will make you foggy and you won't be able to think straight and still you did it. And yet again- It's of no use.  Yeah . --- I has as usual reached the court around four fifteen. In the usual way, jacket tied around my waist, jeans,black t-shirt and a high ponytail. I will tell you that today indeed was a busy day. I played a lot and I also ended up getting my foot cracked. I know it's sounding awful but I have no words to explain a moch. If you know hindi. I will tell you the fact that I have started to know people. And play with them. And be smart. And think straight. And even lead some. And I am happy. The legendary moment of the day was when Roshan was playing. And someone have a real wrong serve. It went and hit the place between legs and everything started to howl like oooohhhhhhhhhh and it took me a while to understand what had happened. Ishan said Oyee Roshan! Ghungru toot gaye and then Roshan said aajaa akrot todta hu tere and then damn they started to have a friendly fight. I don't know how boys do it, like they manage to try killing each other in a friendly way. I really like it though. I mean, fighting and knowing that it's cool. And then Roshan came back saying Akrot khao bol raha tha budhi badhti hai  and I was along the side seeing all the drama happen. Ronit was along the other side today. He had somehow shifted from badminton to football. He was playing with one friend of his saying that he has a match soon. Today there was ecstasy mingled in the air(and thoda sa corona jisko hum dekh nai saktey). And it felt like it will rain. My body gave me chills and all I wanted to do was sit on the ground. And preferably just fall. I mean fall and sleep. Lay down. And close my eyes. And let everything sink in. Let's it feel cold. Like the storm in the mind. And honestly maybe I wanted someone to join in. And we could talk about all the things in the world or maybe share something more than words could, share our silence and the infinity of words. But no, I couldn't do all of these. People were there. I was a person. And I didn't had the guts to. And I really wish tommorow we get this kind off atmosphere too. Because I think I made a mistake. I should've sat. Let the world do theirs, and should've done mine. I regret. And I can undo. I wish I could. Theher jaa tu kisi bahaney se ayee zindagi..."}
{"text": "# 9th January,2020\n\nNote: if you are new, please begin from 28th December. I started with something, for something, and I ended with so much more. I started with a boy, a handsome one, but just a guy. And right now at this particular point, it's more than just him. The way you get mingled and feel like you belong to somewhere. And you can call the people yours. And you can fall in front of them. And maybe even cry. We find the most amazing people in the most unexpected places. I will tell you something, we are a generation busy searching for the right people in wrong places. And to begin with, all you need to do is, keep the mean machine down. In case you haven't guessed yet, it's your mobile. I will tell you something. I won't say pcs and bad because they are fixed and they don't give you the comfort zone of use in anyplace anytime. And you know, when you look up the screen there's a galaxy full of stars waiting to be noticed. And maybe you can also be one of them. And maybe you can fall in love with yourself. But you need to remember, it should be, for you. Why do you need someone else's validation? Why isn't it all for you? Why does some person 12473728 miles away, point of view hurt you? I will quote some lines you know. These aren't mine but I wish you read them. The only thing about pain,is that it demands to be felt and that it. That's why you feel pain. That why I feel pain. And also one of my favorites  you don't get an option to not get hurt. But you do get an option in who gets to hurt you and Augustus Waters liked his choices and Hazel too. I am sorry if I changed some part of the line. But, it's so amazing. Alright, people if you're reading this. Please, look away and sleep early. Save some overthinking. And, you guys mean so much to me. Now that you've read me, we are connected. So sending some kaaaafi saara pyaar to you. Okay, so today when I was at the ground I forgot about myself. I forgot I was Adity. I kept hitting hard and didn't gave a flying duck over, it went or not. And I really wanted to sit on the ground but the idea of getting attention still gives me chills. And so I'll keep it for some other day. Ronit fell down today while answering a shot. He's been falling too much these days. NG2 if you remember her, I am so sorry if you're getting confused, her name is Rishika. Rishika is nice and confident. I played a lot with Rishika until the time my legs would despise the job of taking my weight. I will tell you, I am the official 'didi' of the place. Cause only Ishan is seventeen, and I am sixteen, rest are smaller then us, say ninth tenth or eleventh. Though never underestimate them like areeey yeh tho bache hai. Today one kid whose name I forgot the fifth time was hitting a shot and I was chilling near the court and it literally hut my head. Khi khi khi, though the kid was all happy cause usne 'patt se headshot ' diya to someone who was not even playing and chilling. I was very aggressive around the end like 'jaldiiii karoooo'. The thing about these kid boys are that they talk a lot between games. And it's irritating. Girls are great though, they don't talk much unless they're kept beside another girl. So these kid boys keep talking like a chatter box and never get bored. Though there are some other kid boys too who emphasize on playing rather than speaking shit but trust me you'll think they're Sir Oracle. And it's somehow that whenever I miss a shot Ishaan will NOTICE it and do some comment thing. Like I missed one shot and he said  waaah pro player khelri hai  and trust me I was almost about to break Rupsha's head today. But it was mistake. Like I was all focused on playing and she came and stood behind me and I got no idea. And I am so happy that she didn't get hurt, but two secs later Ishan came and said Tum tho aise khelri ho jaise sab ko maar dogi and I immediately wished it should've been Ishan's head instead of Rupsha's. I mean come on! Though I will tell you a thing. When I was in school, I was a mediocre student, the good and bad mixed. But you know the teacher won't remember my name. But she remembered the topper's name and you know who else she'd remember? The worst students, the mischievous ones. So you get remembered either for being too good or being too bad. And this is how I know. People in there shall remember me. And will you remember me? Let me know. And, today was great. And today was bad, but today I will think about the good part and the bad part, let it stay under the covers, and you too, it's cold."}
{"text": "# 10th January,2021\n\nOkay so foremost, I want to start with the best part of the day. And it wasn't on the ground. It was someone who called. Let me tell you, it's his birthday, I won't say the name. But he means so much to me and I forgot. I seriously did. But I am so happy. And you know he had a great day. He's been this happy after a long time. And he deserves all the happiness in the world. And we talked for say 24 mins 33 secs and it feels like every minute was lifetime. Like you know that it'll end soon and so you just don't want to waste time and make sure every minute of it counts well. Padho likho IAS YAS banno mera naam roshan karo. And I really wish. Him. To get over whatever hurricanes going around his life. He's trying. And here we go, Happy birthday, and cheers to him all the way. I hope he doesn't read this. I mean So about the day today, it started with people asking for my cock. I mean, ofcourse and they didn't bring their own. Here's freasons as to why I didn't wanted to give 1) they break it 2)they don't take responsibility 3)they're least bothered 4)10 rupaye ka hai tho kya, dukaan meh jaake khareedna takes time 5)dukaan tak jaaney se zyada mehnat kamaney meh lagti hai which only dad knows and so many more. I will tell you, today I overheard Ishan talking to some big guys. I mean I was just standing in there. It was about some tournament thing. And it was like aap bologey tho 8.30 bajey hi aayenge roz Ishan said. This exactly means that, from sometime he'll be coming 8.30 from now on or something like that. I don't know if it matters. And I played a lot today. There was another kid I played with for a long duration until my hand started to pain with the constant hits. The kid said he won't be coming tomorrow, but probably the day after tomorrow which somehow made me feel sad, which I shouldn't have. Ronit didn't come to the ground today at all. Aditi Rupsha and Rishika are standard nine girls and I definitely don't fit into their gossip part. Summers have almost come in Kolkata, it's not at all cold. And you know, it's somehow feels sad. I will tell you, change is the only constant. We can't hold on to things for too long and we have to let it go. And when the winter ends, the serenity of all of it would too. It won't be cool, and you'll probably be drenched in the pools of sweat, while just waking. The sun would be high above the head, no one will play, cause no fan. And I guess,soon, I will have to let go. All of this business. Of four to six. I have got project submissions tomorrow and viva a week later, and online classes. And tests. And then solving the previous years papers. And you know today the birthday boy told me a line Adity you'll do so many things now, and in future it wouldn't even matter to you. Maybe today it does.  and maybe none of these things really makes sense. And maybe all these changes are just the beginning, just the beginning and so much more is left to come. I don't want to get tired. And maybe life is all about 'yeh karle tho life set hai' jab ki kabhi set nahi hai. And maybe most people we meet in life are just acquaintances. They're planned to meet and spend time and share emotions or whatever and get down in their stop. And in the end, all you will have is you. And I hope, I learn to let go and accept the changes. Maybe not today, but someday I have to. And you too."}
{"text": "# 11th January, 2021\n\nToday is the last day that I am writing this. And I know that it hasn't been long and you must've expected that we'll go a long way. We have, haven't we? I have some promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep(Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening). The real thing about life is that it never stops. However we can stop, for a while, but then we'd still have miles to go. The idea sounds very vague, but then it's your canvas. You paint it the way you like, with your colours. I have been keeping things really down these days. Playing, getting tired, writing and that's it how it has been. And even though it sounds so great, there's so much more to learn and experiment. And spend time on. Maybe explore. And currently, at this point, scoring better does effect me. I will tell you how it all started. We spend money so easily. And without giving a second thought. But this 2020 made me understand the value of every ounc of money. It isn't just money, it's labour, and time. And love I'd add on. Cause if you were not your parent's child, who'd give you all this? Ever seen a mother feeding her kids? I saw once. I had given a big bisuit. And the mother tore the biscuit into pieces and then fed her kids right through her mouth. You'd even see with tiny birds. Aren't our parents doing the same? So getting back to my point, 2020 and economics taught me value of each penny. Do you remember the beginning of it? People loosing jobs, migrant workers unable to send money to their family, people stuck right where they are, hunger and poverty, school and fees. And it kind off made me feel so blessed, that I am right here sitting and typing this out and not worried about 'what will my kid eat tomorrow'. My father has done so much for me. Though I'd agree I am a brat at times demanding privacy and solitude. And that's just my sixteen year old brain cells speaking. You know, I think about it sometimes. Aren't we all sad? And the difference is, someone is sad because they don't know how'd they survive tomorrow and we're sad sitting on bed with the heater on, because of assignments? I mean see, I don't have it figured it out yet, into what's wrong and right. Just that you'll die one day, depends on you that you die in a expensive medical hospital and your dead body gets carried away in glass or you die out of starvation in some unknown road with no one to even bother. I know this went pretty dark. And I am still trying to figure out. So let's just say it already. I go to play each day, and I am doing pretty great, and that I have stopped thinking almost about everything while I am playing. And it feels nice. To cut off the overthinking part. And that I won't be writing about this daily thing anymore. I guess I am still not ready for certain things to happen. And Ishan, let him be, a tiny little butterfly story, though I'd never say bad about him. He is pretty great too. But we have nothing in between or will. We're friends. And that's it. End to it. I am planning to focus on my boards, cause I am general. And we have to worry about the 'good' college part. And 'marks '. I know marks won't really decide a lot in my future, but, yeh thodi pal bhar ki khushi, I am gonna buy that. For dad. Cause he does the same all the time. And till now I haven't really ever done anything to, make him happy. I mean, the 'PROUD' moment. But, I want him to be. Proud. Hence. Aaj se and abhi se. And haa don't worry I will still be going to play. But I won't be penning it down. Dhyaan rakhna apna sab. Miltey hai zaroor. Keh tho diya hai dekhtey hai kitni din tak yaad rehta hai. And something for you to think about while am away. -Plucked flowers seize to grow. Adity."}
{"text": "# Changes.\n\nI wonder what we are made of. Dust and particles, scientifically we say, matter. But, then what are we actually made of? You know I often get lost in the hurricane of my thoughts, unable to understand what makes me do what I basically do. Sometimes, it's so harsh, and sometimes it's sweet. This is basically the roller coaster we are on. Sometimes I really feel like keeping silent and let some other person fill me in. With thoughts and stories, art and life. I wonder when was the last time I felt 'life' in some other person. We don't get many people we want to keep listening to. I somehow do not understand as to why , we are attracted to confident people. Why is standing out so attractive? Why is anyone with different thoughts, feels like a person you want to keep knowing and knowing until they run out of stories? I wonder why I am attracted to sad people as well. Not the sad type, but basically, when you get tired of finding 'life' in others, all I wanna do is, maybe make someone find 'life' in me? Don't you come across moments when you laugh, and you keep laughing and you wonder, when was the last time you laughed this much? I don't know. Maybe these things are supposed to be unknown. The energy in me, is so mysterious. I am almost flabbergasted and unable to understand. Who is me? These changes making me feel, like a new person everyday. And I don't want people to think I am fake. We change. We are growing, we reconsider. I am not fake, I am just changing. And if you know me, and you reading this, maybe you're some constant. And even when life changes and reconsideration happens, the basic element of me is still going to be same. So if you're my constant, you'll find the constant in me. I hope you do. And umm. I love you."}
{"text": "# Reset.\n\n...and they lived happily ever after. He kept writing her letters months after he stopped sending them. On New Year's Day he wrote that he hoped that she'd get everything she wished for. Then he tossed the letter into a box under his bed. He's stopped trying to bring her back.(taken from eleanor and park- a novel by Rainbow Rowell) I don't know, but, aren't we always looking forward to a happy ending? Though pain makes the tears drip, somehow making you remember the story. I have always wanted a happy ending for myself. An end where everyone's together and everyone loves everyone. I fear it might never happen. The truth better be spoken out, Everything good comes to an end and so does bad . But I'll remember and sulk about the good one. I don't want it to end, but it's like the hour glass running out of sand, all I can do is slowly watch it get over. And then? Reset. It's over. Make it again. Make it? You know what? Forget it. Just forget it. Sitting on some alien ground, watching the sky turn grey and then pitch black. The pearls making a necklace over the sky, through the little light they got . My hands frozen, shivering, the cold. Hitching my coat closer to me, letting the tears sweep down. Maybe we aren't weak, maybe it's just the world. The way it has been. And it will be. Shush. Tommorow is again tommorow. Let's build it again. Okay?"}
{"text": "# 2nd Feb,2021\n\nNote: this is a continuation to what I started from 28th December,2020. Scroll down for prior episodes. He said he wouldn't be coming to play anymore. He had JEE from 22nd. The last day he didn't play. He just sat, and started conversing with another guy. My urge to go ahead and talk had increased. It had been two days since I had seen him. He was wearing a red t-shirt and black tracks. His hair looked just the same. I played and got out, and to me , this was an appourtunity. We might just never meet again. I walked slowly towards him, I came back after half a road realizing a sudden recession in my confidence. After two tries I finally walked to him to talk. He saw me and the nervousness between us disappeared into the mist. He talked with me just like it was yesterday. Phir seh out hogayi tum?  Haa  tum out honey hi aati ho na?  Haa and we both started laughing. After talking for a while he asked me khelna nai kya tumko abb?  Khelna hai toh haii lekinnnnnn umm tum kaha the do din?  Abb hum aayengey nai khelney iske baad. Padhneka hai .  Acha  vaise tumko agar koi maths doubt ho toh puch lena mere se  aur kaise puchengey hum?  Call karlena he said making an obvious face. Mere pass number kaha hai  achaa nai hai kya? Toh likh lo  pen toh nai hai  yaad karlo  naiiii hum bhool jayengey there was a guy sitting beside him, the same guy he was conversing with, before. This guy had a bag with him, assumption was made that he might be having a pen. I asked him hey pen hai tumharey pass?  Hai toh lekin chalta hai ki nai pata nai  acha de do the other guy took out the pen and handed it to me. It was working. So abb paper bhi dedo?  Paper nai hai  tum paper k bina pen ka kya karta hai?  kuch nai . I handed over the pen to Ishan. Toh kaha likhey? He asked. Hath pe he made a slight smiling face, took my hand in his and wrote his number. I took care of the number making sure it doesn't get rubbed off. I reached home, immediately writing down the number into my phone and then washing my hands. That was the last time I saw him."}
{"text": "# what say, sighs?\n\n I wonder if he'll like it Mel said looking at the picture she just clicked. She had liked it. To her it looked beautiful. With her not so sure smile, the creaks in her eyes and her hair around the back tied into plates, a lock slighty passing over the side of her temple. Mel felt good about it. Changing it into one her wallpapers she put it in. And like the other things in life she never saw it again. She would, at times when she'd have nothing else to do. It was not until the day she changed it and never put it back again. The day had passed just okay. All of the classmates looked into their phones, into the text messages or calls they might have missed, some were busy into selfies. She, with her head held high looked at bus numbers searching for the one that'd reach her home. Mel didn't really liked selfies, or she did, but with the people she liked. She looked at her phone thinking about her guy friend, who does pick up at times but mostly not and if she could call. With her almost half the expectations she called his number. It ringed three times until the line went disconnected.Looking at what nothing could be done she picked in the earphones from her bag , without adding music to it. Perhaps it was her way of being busy. Hey could I- borrow your phone? Systa asked her. Systa was one of her classmates she neither liked nor disliked. Sure she said as she passed away the phone to his hand. As she put down her fingerprint, the home screen opened up popping out her picture. The one she liked the most. Shit dude- Systa gasped as he went into chuckles. What happened? Mel said in a tone which clearly wasn't comical. Dude this scared me gosh  Systa said as he called down the number for which he had borrowed the phone. Mel looked down at the flowers, and then the sky, and then towards the people going in cars. Some of the people stared back which was pretty weird. She took back her phone- her bus has come in. Sliding into the bus seat, she unlocked her phone, popping up the picture she liked the most. Changing it to a black dark background she out off the picture, for another day when she felt beautiful enough."}
{"text": "# To forget or not to?\n\nWe as people, meet people. We as people make memories. We as people have no idea when we make them. We as people erase them too. From burning down the ashes of something that existed to throwing it away in the sea. Lovers lock their love over the bridge, even when the love rots away, like the rust over the lock. If you have ever thought about what we do, we dig in. We dig into each other. Don't get me wrong, but we just do. We dig in to make a space that belongs to us, in the person we know talk to or spend time with. It's basically like leaving a scar, that burns. The brain cells by then get used to all the hormones that feel good. At the stage where you stop feeling them, anxiety takes over. Some people remember some people, forever and for some people, their scars become lighter and lighter until one day, it's almost like they never existed. But the question remains. If you forget me, should I be forgetting you too? To never forget is to never move on, and at this stage, as many as relationships you make, you end up making a cycle of whatever happened to you, putting scars on others. To forget, or not to?"}
{"text": "# Home?\n\nThere are many answers to what a home is, logically it's a place with 5 walls around you. For some, home is an emotion. What they feel, because then, even hostels and hotels would be called the same. So we end into, home is an emotion.But I am a traveller, for me there's no home. Home is people. Home is a place that makes me feel like, climbing in anytime even if it's midnight. Where your ashtrays lies on the windowsill, dishes still left to wash. It's a place where you take in the little steps, grow, and keep growing. When I said, home is people and I am a traveller, you may have figured out why. Travellers have no home, they go around and keep going around, every place is home to them. Every memory is precious. Everyone is love. Everything is beautiful. And that is what, describes home to me. :)Maybe there would be a day, when my legs would stop going, and my heart would say, abb ruk jaatey hai thoda, issi jagah issi samay, or mai kyu? Puche bina shayad ruk jau. Par voh din aaj nahi."}
{"text": "# Rains and Ruins\n\nIt was the season of summer, and a hot humid day followed us. Something was wrong about the day, or the clouds or just me is something I am yet to figure out. The clouds changed shades, getting darker and darker each time, maybe the sun tanned the clouds? By the time, school ended the weather had just turned around. Crazy winds mixed with rain almost a deadly combination. He looked at me, and I looked back. He grabbed my hand and with bags over our heads we ran. We managed a slip but managed stability after a few circus tricks. He didn't let me fall. We sat under the slide, hearing the rain pour on us. I opened my hair, and he let the drops still pour down from his temple. This place, it's not like it used to be. The rain is still here. I am here. The rain is pouring hard. The slide isn't here anymore. I don't see adults escorting their children out. I can't see him, or the bracelet made of pebbles. There's dirt. I brushed my hand over his head, and he looked at me. Occasionally the rain was being glanced at and it did not look like it will ever stop. To me, I did not want it to. There was the tree, it has grown old. It still has our names dug into it. It must have waited long for us to return. And now, it's not us. I have kept my promises. The street lights turned on, and a ray of light flashed down on the silver ground. A few people could be seen passing by. The smell of soil, like the rain had just kissed it with whatever it had, every pain in it resonated with me. The rain has almost stopped, with the last drop of rain falling down the leaf. It was time for our departure. He moved a little, at the same moment when I told him not to, don't go my heart said. He gave me that same smile of assurance as he slid his hand away and stood up I will be back . His smile was weak, like a fire ready to die. I didn't feel so good about letting him get away. But eventually, he did. And yet, he hasn't returned. The only thing common is the rain has ended, years ago and still, I had lost him."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #1\n\nIf the stars breakdown,Do they get mixed in the soil,Do plants grow there and become trees,Do stars look at the earth, thinking of the grave of their old ones?Do they still mourn, gasping or they just blink?Is just blinking a mechanism to cope up with the pain? Or is it just some refraction of stupid lights which makes us think all of it?If stars could break away like that, why couldn't we? Why couldn't we just break away, like blast, Getting mixed away in the soil almost like disappearing from the existence of whatever we could've been. Our potential lifes? But that will never become real. I don't exactly know what all this is supposed to mean. But why do you wish when a star breaks away?I don't know . I just feel like we are somewhere the stars. Do you ever just think about it? It can we that all of us have one star that resembles us. Some people die everyday to put up to certain wishes of people. People are stars. All of us. And the sky is black. Moon is idk. Some beauty perfection shit. Everyone wannna be like moon. Can we just give attention to that tiny little star the corner? Look how amazingly it's all alone in there. The way it wouldn't form a constellation, be like everyone else. I guess I love it for that. Because. You still shine."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #2\n\nShe looked down, fixing the drapes on her saree, her hair open. Her earrings would make a little sound when they moved, it wasn't much, but enough to take in all of my attention. I could look at her and say that she was nervous. Her eye followed the room, looking for a comfortable someone. And that's when I come to play. I go ahead, and murmur a small hi, she replies with the same hi. And for a brief second she smiles at me, and I smile too, though we haven't got an idea about what's so funny. What are you smiling at huh? I say, and then she smiles a little more, and ahh I lost my heart just there, nothing, just that, you look good and I couldn't hold my eyes, she is making me blush. You too I say. We move ahead, a little, and it hardly had been a minute, when other girls show up. Our small little, understanding went into a big circle of greetings. I can say, a part of me was angry. Today of all days, I wanted her for myself. I was selfish, but who isn't? I moved out of it, enough that nobody did notice. Near the pond under the tree I sat, looking at the lunch I brought for us. I couldn't ask her if she wanted to eat with me, and now she might, but with her friends. Looking at the pond, I see a reflection, it's her but it's sudden. You? I say turning my head back to her. What's for lunch? She said in her chirpy voice. She sat down beside me without a word. I opened down the box. We ate. I had made,whatever she liked. Even if I didn't really tell, she did get to know. We talked after that till it was evening. It was time to go. We did not really take part in the events, or the games the other people played. But for that time whatever we did, even if it was just to talk, I am glad. In the end she held my hand as we walked back to the bus home."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #3\n\nOnly if life had a rewind button, I would have loved you a little more. I wouldn't have fought on Sundays for a stupid guy you met on, who might just potentially ruin things. If I had known, I wouldn't be leaving from beds on mondays, while you kept telling me to stay a little longer. If I had known, our kisses would have been a little more the infinities we talked about. Or I may have bought you that one more hamburger, that you yourself told me not to buy you, even if meteors come by. If I had known, I would have danced in the rain even without thinking we just might catch fever. If I had known I would have whispered my love, a little more about how, even if everyone is the day, I would still choose night, cause you live in it. I would have told you, that the entire sky would just be yours if you just wished it instead of telling you, how it just won't be easy.And that my heart sings for you in pain and grief and even in happiness. I would've told you, about how even after a million homes, nobody has ever felt my own.If I had known, I would never had let you go away that day. If I had known we just might have been different today."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #4\n\nWe were smiles, she was. I do not smile much alone, cause doing that either means you're thinking about someone or you having a mental breakdown. Our smiles together wasn't the straight one. Where your lips form a perfect curve, and the eyes glow up. Hers was somewhat the way her eyes would go small, and form creeks. Her cheeks would puff up even and she'd try hard to laugh not more than that. But she would. And boy! I could look at that the whole day."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #5\n\nLeaves fallen down all the way. A few trampled, a few bended over the joints, yellow and dried smelling of some old love.I wonder if these leaves ever felt remorse for not ending up in someone's diary? How beautiful it would be, to be picked up and loved? I wonder if these leaves just got old, or did they fell ? Why are love stories, that ever lived always were always incomplete? Why does this cupid's arrow feel like hell. This lady,I remember would gather all these leaves, every morning . Her old arms stretching in and out, occasionally fixing her crooked spectables. Sometimes looking at me she would give a silent nod. She smiled at times looking at the kids playing by. She would spend some time gathering these unwanted failings and then looking at the children would silently walk in.She'd toss the pile away in the fire. What a good flame? A flame of fallen life about to die. I wondered if it was a way to burial. A memorial to the ones who couldn't make it, or stay intact in the harsh winds. She'd at times sip through the tea and look through the window. Awaiting a storm, or perhaps rain, she'd wait for the autumn to come and a few more leaves to fall, knowing she's not the only one to do so. A written commandment of love over the yellow leaf, had lived through the years. And he's yet to come. -the leaves that didn't make it through the pages."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #6\n\nAnd she felt it. She felt she was no more important. And whatever she did, for whoever, it doesn't matter. In the end she'll be alone again, cutting wounds, counting dead fireflies. Counting as if they might increase in number. People said giving your best- gives you everything you wish? She doesn't think so. Giving everything you have, might just end up empty. In a room left with just her. Sometimes she'd feel like to rip herself off, for giving away or being so dumb. She'd rub her skin until it would get red and realize just how more scratches and the it's out, the blood. She had too many scratches to heal. She'd wait for them to heal, and scratch them again. Oh did she do the same with her heart? She read lines about how living and existing are different. Most people just exist. And to live is great. But why are all the stories about beautiful gardens , without a torn lef, or the withered flowers that grew old, or the ones that got trampled? The thorns that might have gotten into the skin of the person who took care. She'd want to stop to exist. Trying out things like walking or drinking coffee might help. Something definitely can make her happy right? She's so much below the sea under the heap of regrets and memories and people. She can't breathe. And you can't hear her, can you? -Under the water."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #7\n\nDays have passed on crazy. I believe it's how the whole regret thing works. When we have time, we think, we have got a lot. When we don't our mind thinks the reverse, I wish they gave more time. Life has got stuck in this cycle of blaming everything around, to an extent that have forgotten about myself. Every circumstance feels like a full stop. The extent to which you can pull over, and then you realize there's more. There's always more and more waiting. Now that I look back, it feels like I have stood long in the same place, and it's time. Time to move on. To a different destination? And a new damn place? More people and certainly more of life. Even though time has been passing away like sand, flowing away, but at this moment. I don't feel like holding on to it. I feel, I feel the urge to let it go the way it always has. Haven't written for a while. That's what I use my earrings for, these days."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #8\n\nDear Memories, I don't like the way you always slide away, even though I try to hold on to you. Though you never go away, you just slide down, getting replaced by new happenings. Like a pile, it's hard to think about you and remember you as it is. It's fascinating how, we make you in present, without even having a tiny shard of idea . The laughters, falling down, and laughing cause you fell down, your someone laughing, and you stand up, and fall down again, laughing because you couldn't stop laughing yet.That kind of you. That is what I am talking about. When I started to play, I remember my hands all sweaty. I was shivering, and it wasn't cold. And my heart beat was as fast as it could be. You know, the first was fine. Second day was the hardest. And third day? It was better. It kept getting better. I made friends, and you. And at this particular time, I am leaving it again. Sometimes it feels like, there's no use of investing in people. Because the certain time of it, will end, and things end up becoming one of you. Very few people make past that barrier, of personal space, being there watching like the moon from far away. Mostly, it's like the fixed things you'll pass by, they won't follow you. I kind of feel sad too. And ofcourse that line you know It will never be the same again thing. I kind of feel very bad about it. Looking back to the pages, I realize how long it has been. And things that made sense before, doesn't now. Change is perhaps the only constant we got. Maybe we only stop by the woods for a certain time, at the end, we'll have to keep going. Until we sleep?I am glad, I have you. Reminds me of, how vulnerably beautiful life has been. :)"}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #9\n\nI have lost them all,Even the bright stars and their magical light is gone.My soul has lost it's way in the busy street of life,And it can't wait.There's something mystic about the sunset in the evening,It's sad yet the most serene.All I can think is about his smile,The blush over his cheeksLike the very nerdy geeks.The way our stare game through the classroom, Would go for hours,And still it would never be boring at all.The way your lips would turn red,With the just ate gola we had.The way our shoulders touched,While we sat together in the school busThat made us try looking everywhere but each other.The way you wept like a baby,When I was leavingYou literally wept all your mucus on my churni enoughThat I told you to keep it. The way you sat on the middle of the road,Your hands wrapped around my one leg,Creating a scene,Saying you won't let me go.I would give it a try,Realizing you're too heavy.I would just lean downAnd kiss on your head,And whisper the words,Those eyes would look at me,And I realize how much I don't want to go,As your grip slowly loosensAnd you let me go. And now I realize, when I thought it would be easy to forgot,I am here, ten years later on the this very same street."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #10\n\nI wonder what we are made of. Dust and particles, scientifically we say, matter. But, then what are we actually made of? You know I often get lost in the hurricane of my thoughts, unable to understand what makes me do what I basically do. Sometimes, it's so harsh, and sometimes it's sweet. This is basically the roller coaster we are on. Sometimes I really feel like keeping silent and let some other person fill me in. With thoughts and stories, art and life. I wonder when was the last time I felt 'life' in some other person. We don't get many people we want to keep listening to. I somehow do not understand as to why , we are attracted to confident people. Why is standing out so attractive? Why is anyone with different thoughts, feels like a person you want to keep knowing and knowing until they run out of stories? I wonder why I am attracted to sad people as well. Not the sad type, but basically, when you get tired of finding 'life' in others, all I wanna do is, maybe make someone find 'life' in me? Don't you come across moments when you laugh, and you keep laughing and you wonder, when was the last time you laughed this much? I don't know. Maybe these things are supposed to be unknown. The energy in me, is so mysterious. I am almost flabbergasted and unable to understand. Who is me? These changes making me feel, like a new person everyday. And I don't want people to think I am fake. We change. We are growing, we reconsider. I am not fake, I am just changing. And if you know me, and you reading this, maybe you're some constant. And even when life changes and reconsideration happens, the basic element of me is still going to be same. So if you're my constant, you'll find the constant in me. I hope you do. And umm. I love you."}
{"text": "# To post or not to #11\n\nI will tell you why I don't want to tell you that you're someone that I think about. That I keep my phone on full volume in the hope that you'd call. The fact that I lower the volume whenever I am away, cause the call is for me and it should be only me that picks up. I don't feel like adding on to the list of people you've to take care of. The way it's morning and you look at the old dyed clock over the wall and certainly be thinking how the 'times' might never change. The exhaustion over your face, the slight smile, and way you wanna smile for the sake of it, to show everything has been alright and you're all okay. I will tell you. I want to be the leaf hanging through the window; a ray of hope. Something that you see everyday and recall that you still have got to live. Looking upon me, even if there's a whole lot of lined up stars over the galaxy. For me, and that I shall be walking by your side, even if I am a mere painting. But I am enough. I am the masterpiece."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #12\n\nI have realized something. When I was small, I picked this certain glass bangles that I really liked. These bangles looked like coloured circles of life, all colourful with tiny mirrors of self love in them, wrapped in transparent plastic of reality. I wasn't stealing you know, just picking up something I really liked,without paying.Unfortunately, the churi wale uncle happen to notice my not-so- thievery and I had to keep them back, cause Papa refused to buy me those.What's the point of telling you all of this?Aren't we doing the same act throughout life? We pickup things from people we meet. Kindness, love, hope and so much more. All of it is picked up. I would even say jealousy, cause the moment, we get to know someone is jealous of us, we start to get into doing the same, comparing. There's a difference in being taught something and picking up something. We mostly pick up.We pick up or definition of 'the glass bangles'.And payment? Payment is somewhat done in attachments, and every tome you do this certain picked up action, you recall the person who you picked it up from, and in most cases, these people end up being past tales."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #13\n\nYou know, I wanted go out, live and breathe. But now, I don't. I feel helpless. Suddenly, like you feel home is a safe place.I wanted to go out discover the world, the nights and the days.But now I guess I want to turn myself into this cage. Lock myself in. The world suddenly feels scary,the world living and how, for some , even home isn't a safe place. Who is it? Who is next?I have been trying to find goodness in every being to just realize, I am wrong.There's no goodness. There are only people. People who want work done, people who are selfish and useless.People who don't know the number of stars over the horizon, people who wear face masks. People who talk about breathing, and can't breathe. -counting the stars that left the sky"}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #14\n\nYeah. I like my nailpolish. Is that wrong? Maybe, maybe not.Dear Diary #61 I am starting from right where I ended. And this is where I am. At 61 st. Which means there has been sixty times when life went breaking apart, creeping my nerves, filling me enough to write again. Don't misunderstand this with my other history, my poems and stories they'd really fill a different slot. But this. This is my place. I come here when I am sad, in pain or lonely. You're right. When I have no one,I come to you. Is that selfish? Cause, you don't leave. And people probably do. I am good with words, but not good with lies. Yeah, that's where I mess up. So, well say, when I want someone to stay for me. Do I really stay for someone? That's what it is, right? You're expecting people to stay for you, escape sleeps probably give you as their first priority. But give it a thought. Is there someone like you, probably expecting the same from you. And you don't reciprocate cause probably you don't want it. Why? Cause you don't feel something about this certain person the way you feel about some other person. And that becomes some entire love octagon. Triangle is just a baby. I am there for you when no one is there for me. I am not there for you when people are there for me. Yeah. That is what I call honesty. Don't be sweet, be honest. Be it. So that you don't end up on someone's Instagram status termed as #fake. Atleast it's better to be called rather mean and selfish. Right?In the end, we are all bad tales in someone's book, and what can we do about that? We keep doing it. And yeah. I am upset. Cause,I am a bad tale."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #15\n\nI had joined some workshop. Some workshop for handling temper. I had gone with brother and I was eleven years old then. It was held twice a week. Sundays and Saturdays, 9 am to 4pm. They used to provide crap lunch, brownies and frootis for breakfast. Mom forced us into it when we were in Gurgaon at moms friends. There used to be more than three hundred kids at once,possibly more. The lady who gave lecture was some lady NRI. She said one rule. You are not supposed to sit with people you know. Be truthful to yourself. I am brother never sat together. I wandered around, perhaps wasnt good at making friends. One day I sat with her. And life changed, we sat and talked, tried suppressing our laugh. Laughed a lot. We had the best jokes, she understood me and I didnt know how. I never explained her anything, still felt like she say to me Shhh.I know and its perfectly okay. I fell in love with her, she wasnt crazy like me, instead she was calm but still was amazing. She told me her Dad taught in this workshop too. And her Dad wanted her to attend it as well. We sat together, we searched for each other in the crowd. Until this one day, she didnt sit beside me. I asked her why? She said, its against the rules and she cant cheat her father. She promised him that shell concentrate. I felt sad. She didnt sit. I was back to sitting alone in the crowd and sleeping. I used to still search for her. I could only see her sitting everywhere but beside me. One day I found her at lunch table sitting alone, having her home made tiffin. She didnt like the crap lunch these workshop people served. She felt different. There was a tone of sadness in her voice. I didnt ask her why. I wish I had. I never saw her again. But I never forgot her. I forgot her face, but I still remember her name, her words, every inch, every moment. Yeah I was in love with her, not the kind of boyfriend girlfriend love, but the kind of love one can never explain. I could never... Ending this with a quote I wish I knew how to quit you Goodnight(11.56 pm)"}
{"text": "# To post or not to #16\n\nI am listening to the same melody. The same song looping, a sixty times. Tu thori der aur theher ja, the song of stay. When you want someone to stay and just stay. You don't want them to do anything, just staying would do.It's a cry from within, when you wnat the time to stop and it doesn't, so you just want the person to stop. Maybe a little longer. Longer than everyone else. Maybe a little longer for life.."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #17\n\nShe was sitting on the white bench. Her bag hanging through her right arm. Her head was down and I knew she was thinking again. Hey, why are you here for? I asked. Well, the same thing you're here for. Submissions. She said. I know that! I mean, why are you sitting here? Uhm. Work's done so going home, waiting for the bus Well. What's the hurry? There are other friends. Let's hangout with them for some time, atleast till your bus comes. No, I have to go home. Dad must be waiting.  Adi, can you stop lying already? Can you stop bothering already?  Lol, why don't you ever try to stay? Why are you always running. Here to there. All the time. I don't stay because I don't have a reason to stay. Well well am I not a reason?  No you're not. Okay. She stood up. Where? Going to walk till the bus comes Well. How about I join? Weren't you just about to hangout out with your friends? Well. I guess someone has a reason to stay. Unlike some people . Stop stealing my lines! Learnt from you.  I whispered. Her lips formed a beautiful curve, though she tried hard to suppress. I walked with her though none of us said a word. I guess we found our reasons. To stay. Passing through the time."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #18\n\nI would do anything to not feel the way I feel now. I hate good nights and goodbyes. Good nights means I have another eternity of night to think about all, everything that is going away, or the guilt that the day wasn't productive at all. I want to talk, turn the nights into mornings. The darkness engulfes me tonight, and I don't see a way out.I don't like goodbyes. They tell me that nothing is going to stay. Everything would eventually leave you and you'll be left with good bye which is not at all good. It's the feeling. You walking on road. People. Everyone one. And you'll keep walking and fish your pocket for a phone. Must've tried all the friends, just cut down the feeling of being lonely in the busy street.I promise. Will sleep tommorow by time. Cause I hate nights. And I will make sure I will never be awake at this time. Note it down. 2.16 am. And I know. I am writing something. And I don't know . The feeling sticks to me like leech pulling my soul out of happiness. Like some sad piano that keeps playing and never ends. And I wish one day the fingers get tired and the piano stops. No more sad. No more harmony. No more laments. No more of anything."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #19\n\nThere are mornings I don't wish to wake up. Curl back to the bed, toil and make a cocoon where you'd last lay your head. Perhaps the winds were too rigid,the night was too stormy to leave. We were just drunk that day. I don't remember anything either. I don't remember the way your hands curled around my waist, pulled me closer and planted a kiss. I don't remember descending down the stairs. Or the way we kissed down till we reached bed. It was too fast to witness the action. And I didn't want to see anymore, I just wanted to feel. For a second let everything happen. Deem it a night of mistakes. One after the one. Well. Nights of mistakes now. Cause. I guess the daylight was too broad. The way we fell out of everything at the first ray of sun. The way you got up, pulling away your hand from mine. As I was the heat of the sunshine. You buckling your belt, forcing the thin linen of shirt around the shoulders fast. As if you're running from me, the night or the mistakes, or some guilt. And you'd never turn back. But then I know, there will another night. When the storms would be at dam, winds too fast, another night of lie, where we'd bury our mistakes by."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #20\n\nKolkata. The city of joy. I have always wanted to see the city, cold and aesthetic, the evening, the people, the laughter and ofcourse, the joy. It's a beautiful night. Lights and lights. Food and chatter. Laughter and happiness. The daughter of the city is back to her place.For nine days. I am standing right there. Close to the empty street. Alone? No. Not this time. His hands are warm and all held tight. I fear, I would get lost in so much happiness, and the air around. The air that feels like drugs, and him being the catalyst in our chemistry, boosting my smile. I am looking pretty today. Exactly the way I imagined, big jhumkas, a red lehenga,with golden embroidery and blue borders. A churni with the same colour, giving the birth mark around my waist a little show. I am shy usually. But I know, today is mine. And I won't let anyone take it away from me. Not even myself. My hair has somehow managed to tame itself,as if said this morning 'live it and I promise not to interfere'. My hands are full with bangles, the glass ones. The ones I have dreamt of, the glass ones, the colorful ones you know? There is a bindi on my forehead, a small one though, it's a bit more on the left side, but who cares. I can't see it. Can I? Haha.Maa says, big ones are for married women, and small for the maidens. I miss her. I have payals around my feet, and they don't give the same joy as it used to with those baby shoes that made sound every time I stepped. Like every step counted. But they're still trying to compete. I am feeling beautiful. Feeling new. Feeling different. And I know, it's not just about the night, or the city, he also counts in. Right?The city looks even more serene in the night. A kind of feeling I can't hide. We are right around the corner, eating food. He like the movies they do, wipes of the chat from the corner of my lips. I can't help the laugh. It's like a carefree spring.And it feels like, freedom has come and kissed me twice. Blessed me twice. Blessed the city. Blessed the night. And I don't want it to end. This feeling is new. And I want to live it. Now. Now. Right now. A dream of ten years. Finally. Let me live it.Shush let me sing."}
{"text": "# To post or not to? #21\n\n'Real men who love their wives prepare them for widowhood '. I don't remember where I read. But I remember it. Well and I don't know if it's true. Is it?When we love someone, we get so involved , that at this point we forget our ownself. We just go on with the flow of life. If I love someone, I would like that person to be happy-with or without me. After all, love never promised to stay together, we did. Love never promised happiness, we did. Love was never forgetting yourself into someone, it is finding yourself more. Does he tell you to learn to cross the road yourself? See the red light, and then see across left and right both. Then cross. I am here nothing will happen. And you learn it. You get over the anxiety. I am scared of crossing roads and hence this example. Does he tell you to get to go forward? Take your decisions? And I will hold you if you fall?Love isn't about calling each other baby, it's about looking at each other when they miss their mother. Love is basically. Just love."}
{"text": "# To forget or not to?#22\n\nIt's the time when you know everything is moving away. Connections, relations,friendships like someone just added a drop of lemon to the milk. And it will never be the same again. Good times, brings good memories, friends joy and happiness. Bad times brings, sadness, and this is the time you realize, who is your friend. Friend in true sense. And in hurts, when the one you thought would be with you, is the first one to withdraw. People save themselves first. It's a way to life. Do not waste yourself, on someone who is not willing to do the same for you. And you realize maybe, every promise was a lie. Every word was just a word. And every person is distant. And maybe the old school memories would bring joy for once. And then you'll feel this searing pain, and things are not the same again. And trust me. Who wants to stay does. And you've been wasting your feelings on wrong people for so long. And everything is falling and maybe the gravity has hit too hard. And the pieces of glass have made their way into your skin and there's blood. And pain. Everything is breaking apart. You , me us everyone and everything."}
{"text": "# To post or not to?#23\n\nRight. I would never understand. I didn't when I saw you giggling to yourself and then I saw a book, tight around your hands. And you were reading. You kept doing it, sometimes you'd look around to see if someone thought you were a crack. And yeah for once I did. I have seen people, smiling seeing texts. Smileys and emojis and Ily s. It was tha last period. You closed the book down. You got bored. You stared outside the window with a too blank expression and then you wrote. For a second I thought you were crying. Maybe you were. You tore the paper right outside the notebook. Scrunched it throwed it in your desk. That page joined the rest, the balls of your thoughts. I am sorry, I didn't get a better term. I am not talking dirty. You walked out and I saw the papers. Unfortunately I didn't know which was your recent. Therefore I took them all. Filled them in my bag. I went home and read it all. And I laughed like an lunatic. Never halfed in years. You made me smile. You and your thoughts. It had people. I was one of your thoughts and it made me giggle. Yeah, better than those Ily texts or kissing emojis.A handsome piece of shit you had called me in one of those, describing every person in your class.I didn't know whether to get offended or laugh. All I knew was I wanted to get in your head and read you all the more. All the more and more. I reached early, market each paper of yours with an ink and threw them the same way it was before. I had written my comments over each of them. Like it was a conversation, and I knew you would never get to know, never read. Except that you did. And it was there where it all began. Just like that.."}
{"text": "# To post or not to?#24\n\nA long time after, fingers slipped, a chat with my old bestfriend. Dear diary, a ear for the ones, who want to speak, but are better with words, through the ink. A thousand secrets of the adolescence, confessions of love, the lost age. This was a bookmarked page. A page, filled with a strang of cupid's wings and a lovers phase. Some drops of pearls had managed to make a mark on the yellow page, and their lay a heart. Just a heart, a little tattered, a little old, a little folded, like it has gone through generations waiting for the person. My name didn't seem to vanish much. It's still there in some imperfect words. A hand cut heart out of a piece of love, a part , with small hands, promises to always be there. And something was felt. The solace, of being wanted for once. And this is how I remember, To be young, and in love."}
{"text": "# To post or not to?#25\n\nDear you, Yeah, again. It's me. Day 56, uh no sorry 57 time 3.54 pm. I am sorry. It's been exactly a year, and a little more. It's like this window. I come everyday. And the lights are on. And I know you're awake. And I know you won't speak. I know I made a mistake. 'A' would be an understatement. I made many. A little less than the stars over the horizon. You love stars, but you never loved mistakes. I remember the first time we met, you'd said, I hate people who lie. I hate mistakes. And I heard it, and I knew, I was making a mistake right then. Right then. And I thought over it all night. And I didn't wanted to loose you. Well you see, I anyway lost you. Funny thing. We always hurt the people, we never want to hurt. It's an act. And we do it. Knowingly or unknowingly. In my case, I don't know. I would call it my act of selfishness. I am. Very. I see the lights switch off at exactly two a.m. I see your figure roaming around,something pressed against your head,which I beleive to be a phone. Sometimes I would see dim light, and I know you're binging over the Netflix again. You never open the window. You used to. Now, you don't. Cause, you know. I'd be over the window, waving at you, with my old sorry note. Even if you open the window, you won't wave back, won't smile at me or giggle whenever I hit my head on the grill trying to somehow crane my head, expecting to reach your windowsill. Stupidity at it's best. I guess, we never know things, until we lose them. Every morning I pass a letter down the sleek space under the door, it disappears inside and I'd never know if you read it or just threw it in the dustbin. But there is a hope.Just like that one light in the dark. Dark sky and darkness everywhere, and just one light through your window."}
{"text": "# A letter to twenty seven,\n\nDear Adity who turned twenty seven, Hey? You there? Are you sleepy? If you're, go grab a coffee, wash your face, tie your hair like that messy bun, and now start. So, twenty seven? Feels great right? You know, I remember the last letter I wrote asking you if you got into love and things like that. Even if you didn't, I did. Yes, a lot has changed in the past one year. Reconsiderations have happened. You know today morning, maa woke up at five . She took a shower, put in some offering to the god, started into making mattar paneer. Exactly the one I like. I am unsure if anything could be a better gift. At night around 2 am I was in a voice call in discord with a couple of people. A girl sang a song for me, and my heart broke. It means something to me. Yes I was covering my silences. Bunny called me, she dedicated like seven songs to me, we talked about things. It's been a while you see. And and and, I got some red roses. For the first time in life. Yes I had red cheeks. And yes I am smiling while I write this. In the evening I dressed up, into the suit I had abandoned six years ago, and it fit me surprisingly. Granny looked at me for a solid 20 secs, took a note out and nazar utari meri. I couldn't stop laughing. I went down then, got my cake. Yes the classic Blackforest tradition. And then went for a walk. I did my favorite thing. Walked down on empty streets taking pictures of what made me feel something. My shadow looked extremely pretty.I was a bit scared of going into the dark places. I am afraid. I am sorry. Talked to the people I love spending my time with. Honestly got into a little row with one. But I don't think you'll be remembering who it is. Where you are, I am unsure if you'd even remember today. You're getting fucking twenty seven. I hope you're doing what you promised me. Being yourself. I have realized it's so hard to be yourself without judgement. I am trying to get over it. I hope you've too.Don't drink much. And don't smoke. What is important everyday is to showup, even if you don't win the field. Boring advices from a teenager is basically what you need right now.Yours Adi,Weird but okay."}
{"text": "# Escapism or is it?\n\nToday is well today, 6th of October to be precise and the year 2021 just in case my future grandchildren might be curious to know. Honestly, these dates have always been for myself to know. To remember that the event or whoever wrote this, lived in past, by 10 secs ago, could be 10 months or 10 years, but I haven't ever reached the 10 year mark. I hope I live to see that day. I haven't written in a while. And so, I might have a little hard time expressing myself and dear reader, I hope you have the time to bear with me. I am grateful for it. Escapism. To escape the world. You must've heard it quite a lot with english poems and stories. The first time I grew acquainted of this term was in school. It was a story, a short story named B.Wordsworth by V.S.Naipul. I could go ahead and give spoilers, but I wouldn't. Anyways. So this story was about escapism. And it took me three reads to get the feel of it. The way the story would not shake of me for a while. But by Google's definition 'an activity, a form of entertainment, etc. that helps you to avoid or forget unpleasant or boring things'. It was different for B.Wordsworth and it has been different for me. Today I realized that escapism wasn't sitting by the window listening to some dark sad melody gloating and rethinking people. Escapism wasn't based on not doing the things you normally won't do, but feeling out of the world. I plugged in some earphones today. And went on a walk. The music was loud. And I made sure to walk on footpaths in order to not get sqeezed by a car like a little cat I am. It felt like you could see the world without the noise it had. The music you'd hear decided how it was. For me, it was this rocky music you'd want to dance on. I walked and walked. I walked till I felt the road ended and I didn't want to take another turn. Tracing back my paths, I didn't exactly wanted to practise my road memorizing superpowers. I walked into the terrace of my building. And kept walking in circles then. I was rather more free to dance and so I did. I danced. And when the music went off, it was dark. I hadn't realized how dark but it about ten minutes to six. Above it a picture of what it looked like. To me it looked like a picture I'd want to paint someday. And it felt good. Good to be content and tired. It's more voices in the head than in front of you. And I have realized only if I just heard the one in front of me I'll learn. Very weird post. Thinking to roll in everyday. Stick by I'll wish. But don't stay only cause I wish."}
{"text": "# Invalid page\n\nHere's a little something for you. A day. A heart wrapped in a sweatshirt. A cold winter with pecks of sunshine. The stardust falling off from your eyelashes like fairy glitters. The road, filled with the clatter of two souls, walking side by side. The street lights their perfect candle, perhaps a little brighter. Not enough stars to count in the wishes of a life falling of the subtle branch of potential. All the potential just turning into the ashes, sown back into the earth like it finally belongs somewhere. Empty canvases filled with white, a colour unseen, a little delight. The chuckle of a mad man. Words. Tons of them. Futile promises of a long period of time. A thief. Stealing away pieces when one could not take them. Stolen kisses. Never a heart. Pages. Pages, full of people, but not one alive. Time turner. Turns in time. Turned days into nights. A crawl into a stumble, a stumble into a walk, and finally he ran. He ran so fast, that he leaped through dimensions. Parallel words where skies were brown. The sea was solid and the land melted down. Cinderella never lost her shoe, why would you part with something that fits you so well. Perfection was a myth. Or even so, is it? A small offering to my dearest writer's block, XD."}
{"text": "# Guide to looking busy.\n\nTo begin with, I didn't really plan this out. And so, I can't give this the catchy beginning that you, dear audience, anticipate. Ever got in places where your eyes just keep watering? Your heart feels a bit broken in petty things and your inner soul keeps on shouting 'why me?' . I am assuming yes, for if I was in your place, I would just look around to see if I have got a 'stalker'. Honestly having somebody obsessed about you; sounds amazing in a world where 'attention' is the new currency. Until the 'stalker' starts being creepy and starts killing people who you can potentially be with. Sounds similar right? Crime patrol or Netflix, depends on how much money you got in that wallet of yours.And I just got distracted. God. Where was I? I could again start about how hypocrisy lives in almost every human being, cause I am an atheist, but I make sure I bring god in places I have nothing to say. Oh my god! Did I get off the topic again?Back to our subject, life keeps on breaking apart. I have two reactions to it, I either let others sympathize with me, or I sympathize with myself before anyone else does.The guide to hiding your emotions publically is wearing a mask. It hides the way your lips give out your mood. Oh and dear mobile! Look into it. It makes us teenagers look very busy. I have never been a person who uses a mobile phone outside unless I have really important work or I want to look busy. So you look into the phone with a mask on, and nobody will suspect you to be having a mental breakdown mid-field.One very important thing to keep in mind, is you do not make eye contact with anybody. Eyes give away a lot, for example, the vision of accumulating tears ready to pass down through the corner of your eyes. So make sure you keep yourself looking very busy.There's a second thing that would work too. Personally tested and approved! You call somebody. Yes, call your mom, or a friend. I know most friends never pick up, but mom! Mom is this one person who is always gonna pick up, cause her kid is out in the world! Tell her what made you upset. I don't think I have ever heard something as soothing as my mom's voice. And after you let things out, you're back to okay without even a soul knowing about your inner turmoil. Plus talking on the phone is busy 101. Nobody will disturb you when you're tearing yourself out. Mom wouldn't judge you, and honestly, I wouldn't too. Seeking an ear to hear is very normal. Doesn't really matter if it makes you a mum boy/girl, what matters and would always matter is you?I may have gotten a bit distracted. I don't intend to tell people that tearing up with an audience is bad. It's really okay. But the fact remains, get to act tough, while you can.Save your tears for people who can actually wipe them. Lucky to even find one.So, look out champ! Got a world waiting for you :)"}
{"text": "# Imperfect days.\n\nReassurances. What do you tell yourself when things don't pan out the way you plan them to go? You tell yourself something that makes you say well that makes sense! . I have a bunch of these in my bag, for your nerves to calm you down. Disclaimer: these only work short term, not effective in long term issues. Not everything goes smooth in life. I mean obviously, who doesn't know that? But saying it, you just overshadowed a major mess up, saying a 'it is what it is' kinda line. You could use it for things you don't have a control over. But honestly, isn't everything out of your control at this point? What have you got to control other than yourself, assuming that you, dear reader aren't a manipulative human being. People have priorities. Hey there, did you get ghosted again? In that case, this is the perfect line that'd sell. Hence, when anybody spends time with you, and then stops doing so, you could just humm this line and turn into your 'bitch mode'. A human like me, would sit and name my priorities, and let me be honest, I'd name my career the first one. It makes you feel powerful, and aware of yourself- for three days. Yes! You got that right, that's the time limit for your hate hormones and your 'i am gonna be focused' slogan. Unless, you let the hate, and rejection keep flowing inside you and end up cracking UPSC! XD. Your defense to somebody having priorities over you, is having your priorities over them as well. You think that'll heal you? Absolutely no. It doesn't. Anyways . 'Not everyday goes perfect'. This is my favorite one, and I know you'd click your tongue and comment how it's similar to the first one. It isn't. The first one signifies an event, however this one talks about a whole ass day! Let me get this straight, your whole day goes crap, your friend puts a hand on your shoulder and whispers this gurumantra. Yes, it makes you feel better. Why? Because it radiates a hope for a better tommorow. Oh but, what is a life without a butt, I mean Instagram was filled with it, now YouTube has it too, you can see the reach. But, tommorow, goes the same like yesterday, trampling over your hopes and expectations of something better. You wipe the sweat gathered on under your nose and commit to an another tommorow, a better one. It breaks my heart dear, but you don't get a better tommorow, cause there isn't something called an imperfect day. It's a series. It's a series of days, a downward slope, which is directly proportional to the level of confidence you own. I wouldn't say there's no breaking out of it, because there is. I have got some tons more, but I don't really remember, you see, these lines stay in system for only three days. Unless you remind yourself of it again. This is it. Do some homework yourself, 'not everything gets spoon-fed into your mouth hole'."}
{"text": "# What made you so pretty?\n\nWhat made you so pretty? Was it the morning sunlight that peeked in to say 'hi' through the curtains. It couldn't have been. Maybe it was the rain this morning, that drizzled through the sunlight like fairy dust. What is it about your sleepy eyes? Was it the peas in the breakfast, that you, passed in your sister's plate sneakingly or the fact that you forgot your calculator on your way to an accounts exam. Maybe it was air, you felt touch your face and leave you wanting more? What was it? Certainly might be something about the day turning into dusk, the sky turning into ash. It must've had something to do with you, hasn't it? Don't tell me it was those heap of assignments you failed to turn in before the day got over and let it slip once again to the next day. It could've been those books, the once you studied, for they're very much capable of turning someone, dull and pretentious, but no, not pretty, or are they? Wait, did I- ..Finding ways to get over blocks.."}
{"text": "# A letter to Mr. Sticky Notes\n\nA rant. A love rant. I am aware of how you may be illiterate. Maybe because things were written into you, and not in front of you? If you could talk, youd remind me of how I never really completed any of my goals. And that writing water 5 liters and sticking it up over the wall wont make me drink water often. To be honest, I like people who talk less. The last kid I ever liked was 6 months old and no I am not talking about my ex. So this kid, I liked him he resembled a dumpling and he was too tiny to talk(gee gee ga ga sounds do not count- I find them cute). I think people prefer your kind mostly because you do not talk. Otherwise, we already have parents to remind verbally of the goals you could never strike off. You could be counted as the most ignored materialistic item in my room, after my calculator. I am fairly happy about where this is going. The only thing youve come in use so far is pretense. For some reason, humans feel that things hanging over the wall are important. For example, a photo(with or without a garland). I as a human loved taping the wall with my timetable which I never in the world followed through the second day. Though the fact that my dad loves white walls and these tapes after getting ripped off would cause considerable marks of failure on the wall, restricted me from using tapes. This has led me to the day you could call the day I brought you home. Youve been very helpful ever since. I stick you on the top of my daily journal with do not read lines. It provides me with the feeling that those instructions have not been violated and that my secrets are safe. However, humans love doing things that theyve been barred from doing. It's like, you may or may not read this shiny green color diary-looking thing lying on the table, but since now it has been written with do not read youll be reading it now. Might find the treasure map in it? It is exactly like those horror movie kids that would want to go into a haunted house and call the ghost out like it is going to come out and do a welcome thing(which it does, just a little violently?). Youve been chosen as the recipient of this letter because it is safe. I initially thought to write it to a living creature, but the possibility of them going ahead and reading is certainly less, but not negligible. This possibility is threatening. Especially when I am writing a letter thats just sarcastic and failed humor. Maybe this is my outlet for letting things be. Maybe I need to drink 5 liters of water daily. Maybe.Until then,see you on my wall."}
{"text": "# A letter to you!\n\nWe are getting washed away in ocean waves. I wont tell you what we signifies. But we are. It feels like nothing will be left. It will be all gone. I do not know how to stop. These wuthering stakes. I am really trying. No, actually I am not. I am trying is just default template reaction to everything. I dont think well live. Well get pulled into the depths of ocean, and well die with our breaths touching each other. I would not mind. I really cannot- I do not have any witty puns or anything you can chuckle about. Just plain vulnerabilities. I do not know if youll remember him ten years down the line. I would. Like something engraved. Like something even a blind person can feel if not see. But we all are mostly blind, arent we? Cant see anything properly other than the mirror. This is the last time I am writing you this. I will not again. This will be a crypt. Well, it is a crypt. In the philosophical sense. All old buildings become crypts the moment they're finished. A shrine to a time that's already dead. -Krystal Sutherland, Our Chemical Hearts. My time is over. It will not walk back to me. One of those things you think, will be okay to put off, but then its attached to your soul. So you end up ripping your soul with the other persons. If I were a mermaid Id be rich. Because I never realized that you could fall in love with humans the same way you fall in love with songs. How the tune of them could mean nothing to you at first, an unfamiliar melody, but quickly turn into a symphony carved across your skin; a hymn in the web of your veins; a harmony stitched into the lining of your soul.Krystal Sutherland,Our Chemical Hearts For everyone out there, Our Chemical Hearts is and always would be my go to place. I could sit and read every line and it justifies everything. Like passing me a tissue paper? There are perspectives. There are people. But the realities shall always overpower fantasies. Maybe your fingers wont touch while you walk together, and definitely wont when you walk away. I could add the whole book if I could. But these lines help. Okay heres a last one, I know you want her back, kid. And I know that people saying things like 'there are plenty more fish in the sea' is only going to make you hurt more. And I could tell you all about the science of what your brain is going through right now. How it's processing a pain as intense as hitting a nerve in your tooth, but it can't find a source for that pain, so you kind of feel it everywhere. I could tell you that when you fall for someone, the bits of your brain that light up are the same as when you're hungry or thirsty. And I could tell you that when the person you love leaves you, you starve for them, you crave them, Heartbreak is a science, like love. So trust me when I say this: you're wounded right now, but you'll heal.Krystal Sutherland,Our Chemical Hearts Does it not sound like a good news? To know that youll be as amazing once again. Youll be and Ill be, all of us and its going to be really okay. Please do not wish to be a mermaid. This was just me and I had to let it out. Ill go now. I wont come back. Do I ever come back? No? Ill see you around."}
{"text": "# essence of a human\n\nI have been proved wrong. I thought what makes a song touching was, the person from who it has been recommended from. Lately, I have realized that it is not the who recommended but it is the who you think about listening to it. A song could mean everything to you in a particular time, but then suddenly, you do not like it anymore. You forget about the song, just like the human, you would think about listening to it. Its called moving on. And when some moment years later, you hear it again, all you can think about is how it used to be your favourite. And isnt anymore. But the smell of the person still lingers around, of whom you would think listening to that melody. Songs are like stories. You listen to them, you just keep doing until the story gets old. Old and same, vulnerable, you think about how it is like a repetition of life. Youve been looping your life with that song of yours and shall remain until you stop. Its a temptation. Its enticing. It makes you feel alive. But are you really alive if youre in a ridiculous loop of the same time? Isnt it more like an addiction, or a habbit you cannot get rid off? Youve been stuck thinking about the same human being with the song that would make you think about you and them. Do you wonder why you cant move on? Youve been looping your life. Hopefully, for me a day will come when that song will not make me feel something. The story would feel old, and I would not feel a word, but today, I do. just a little some realizations, comment and let me know which song makes you feel. ;)"}
{"text": "# Daily Digest-8th April\n\nLife when I grow up will be different from what it is now. And I really mean it. My thoughts haven't been able to escape the heat of Kolkata. Theyve become roasted and dark. You could add them with some poha and theyll surprisingly taste good. Youve a few questions and I can find you the answer , Whats the purpose of this? To find my expressions. You see, writing has been my form of expression to the world. I have never been able to understand the purpose of things I do. But then it is for you to trust the process. Youre doing it right now too. This is sounding utterly nonsensical to you, yet you're sticking around. I cannot however guarantee you if the end of this will satisfy your literary craving. Where am I? Mentally or physically? I have realised that my reflex action to something that should dangerously unnerve someone is weirdly normal. For e.g. person: I had an accident while I was picking in tomatoes. Me: Did the tomatoes reach home safely? Mentally I am in the household of Jaya. Physically I am in a library. Theres internet services provided here of which I am fairly happy about. I can do this at home too, but the idea of being in a workspace with rules and regulations makes me more effective and thoughtful. Who is Jaya? I know youre still itching your head over who is Jaya? Jaya is a failed writer, or say a writer who hasn't quite yet bloomed. She is also a housewife and a mother. I think she is going through a turmoil. It's in her mind. You think writers should be able to express more, but here Jaya isnt able to voice her thoughts. She is stuck and I am concerned. It looks like her primary job is being a wife and shes been failing at it lately. She likes something but refuses to accept it because of judgement from her own husband. Not going to tell you the name of the book until I finish it. How was my today? I snoozed my alarm at five and woke up at five past thirty. I was late but managed to catch the first metro. I think the best part about today is right now. The classes went fairly well. I realise that I have to go back catching the metro again. Going home feels like walking back to a cell. Following the same schedule of a nap and then ceasing into books. Silences? I have realised that I like silence. Like? No, I am addicted to it. I like the sound of my fingers against this keyboard. The sound of a fan, and my own breath. I am left alone. Theres no one telling me what to do. People are weird, they feel your pain and they give you remedies. But they cannot see it through your eyes, they surely just cannot understand. Ending; I do not know how to start a pc. Ending this on something I learnt today. You see, I have a laptop at home that I borrowed recently. I owned a PC back in 2012s and it died. Today when I was told to switch on a PC I started the monitor but forgot about the CPU. I called in the staff to tell her how it's not getting started. She came cautious sensing a major problem but started laughing when she realised that I haven't even started the CPU. embarrassed of myself I mumbled I dont have one at home so I didn't know . her laughter stopped immediately as she apologised and said it's okay. I don't have one at home either. My son is your age only and I found it warm."}
{"text": "# Clear All\n\nThis writer here wishes to do so. Below will be a rant of what I feel about love. Or something I know about hate. There are two things I do. One is that I give, and the other is what I take. Do not get your mind twisted here. We are talking about words. Plain grey words. Why grey? The last lover that left me said he learned many things from me to which I asked, all good things I hope? and he replied Life is not black and white. It is grey. And so there are both, positives and negatives that I have learned. I could not comment any further on this. And so we, go grey! love and hurt? Something I read a while ago, is that love and hurt are synonyms. I have not written or diagnosed it but sometimes I do understand why. And I have seen it. I have seen the hurt, and I have seen the love. It's like loving something in so much abundance that your heart yearns for it. It isn't all pinky promises, it isn't walking on roads with hand in hand. It isn't love at all if you've never hit the lows. and it would not matter if you weren't there What could be the most hurtful thing you have ever heard? maybe something like an I hate you or an I do not love you anymore , it could be different for different people. And for me, it was this. Your heart will divide itself into pieces when it realizes that, its presence there or not would matter. That you've been fighting with your loved ones for something that is not even remotely yours. That kisses on lips or cheeks were just sensations of an empty mind, which could never be turned into something real. We should just kiss like real people do. Symptoms of a fresh bleeding heart When love is not returned, your heart gets empty of giving love and never receiving any. And so what do you do? what did I do? I sat reading books about love, convincing myself that love is nothing more than a chemical reaction and that it will be over before I even know it. That is the only hope we got. A small reaction that can go decades, or a day even. Nobody is supposed to be blamed right? The problem with a bleeding heart is that it gets tired really fast. It loves too much or does not love any at all. The good part is that you get used to it. It will not bother you anymore unless you're skipping nights of sleep listening to music. Where do the daisies grow? - ending People search for love in flowers plucked away from the trees. They search for it everywhere, but under the sleeves of the ironed shirt, or perhaps a hot cooked meal in the between of summers. They search for love over the phone while people sitting right in front of them are barely visible. I do not know what to say. I haven't been able to find a place that allowed me peace. From college to home and home to college, if not there, we walk from the aisles of the evening crowd, wrapping an egg roll into the tight fingers, of my hand but then I have to be home. They do not provide any peace either. It's just an event. Want a place to stay that allows me without sweeping away in the crowd, want a lover that loves me while I sink my fingers deep into the packet, lick off the spice through my tongue. ENding- last How many endings do we need Adity? We need only one, but it should be happy. Boo. Cliche. To be honest, we are never at endings. Just chapters end. Which chapters are yours? Are they really yours, or are they mine?"}
{"text": "# A letter to twenty-eight!\n\nHey? Now thats, some age to get. Being twenty-eight is some scary shit, and one should not do this more than once- not like they do it again. I am so blank currently. I feel like my sixteen-year self had more perspectives to offer than I do. I am clueless. What is it? What are you doing? Are you there yet? I am so scared. Are you there? And do you still drink after every achievement like I decided seven minutes ago? I am really bad with the perseverance part as of now. Have we managed to fix that yet? You know, being eighteen here, does not change a thing. I think we dont just magically grow adults in a day, it just happens so slowly, and then one day youre eligible to not be requiring parental signatures on every piece of the document(P.S. I love it). One more finding I have known is that people cannot be fixed. You cannot fix another human being; they cannot be your kintsugi piece. You cannot fill in gold through the gaps, it is expensive (literally, physiologically), and might cost you, you. I am looking forward to you. I hope we are where we wanted to be. Still, seeing that guy? I can already hear you mumble under your breath, Which one? and to this, I shall answer, the guy you promised a forever? And damn, this is getting tough, that does not help me narrow down the investigation miss youll say. I have had my pretty time idealizing love in different ways. I have faced the loving someone' and then getting loved part. And I can guarantee, that getting both in one love story is indeed hard. But I have managed that. This year has been some rocky hill like every other year. But here we are? I hope youre living because I definitely am not? But then I and you have been a picky eaters, and would just very casually pick the things we like and enjoy those. But I have stopped those picky eatings. Food is scarce, having it at all is the part you should be happy about. I hope youre getting all the deep meanings because it took time thinking about these. Look, I know every year, I tell you what am looking forward to. This year, let's give us some space to breathe. Loosen up maybe, and nothing specific, just a better myself next year. I hope that goal is achievable at the least. Ill drink to that, cheers. Would love to hear from you just in case theyve made a time machine yet, With Love, Adity, Eighteen-year-old you."}
{"text": "# Dear Adity(26 wali),\n\nNote from the Author: Almost everything that I write has two reasons. One is expression. Second, protection. Protection from what? from these constantly changing thoughts. I am afraid to never feel the same things again. So like my old jar, I protect it. Here's something I wrote turning 16, a letter to myself 10 years down the line. You'll find my 17 and 18 versions as well. I really want no part of me missing. No edits. Just whatever in plain words. Dear Adity, Its weird to get a letter from your past and its weird to write a letter to someone ten years away. We both are weird this way.So, twenty-six huh? Hows life? Youre really looking pretty. I hope someone told you that. And also, I know no one needs to tell you that. So where have you reached? How far?Do I sound like the neighborhood aunty calling to know your goddamn result? Maybe I do. But not a piece of paper this time. You know we are the same. Youre just a better shade of me and I am a lighter shade of you. We both envy each other. Dont we?Youd give anything to relax, sleep and be back to the days when studying was the only tension you possessed and eat great healthy home food. I would also do anything to get the freedom youve now. Being independent has been one of my dreams. Hey, are you in love yet? I know youd be laughing at how I am able to connect everything with love. Young and in love -with words remember this line? I hope youre in love with someone the same way youre in love with words. I know you.Money is earned by everyone. Earn relations. Earn people. Earn love. We dont stay. Perhaps, we do something that our stories live even after we dont. Years after years.You know, basically, I have a rough image of howd you be. But this letter is just a reminder of who you are. Before being anything, youre you, youre me. So, be it. I love you. Cheers to being twenty-six. Happy birthday. I cant say I miss you, cause I have never met you. But I hope you miss me. We cant even meet, you know. They say it leads to some paradox shit, not that I have time- turner anyway. I hope you are amazing, even if youre not. Youll be. (p.s. learned the word hope from some guy, not that Id be discussing my love affairs with you) Your sixteen year old self, Adity"}
{"text": "# Brains of the Dead\n\nBrains of the dead his or mine, Destinies rewritten, stars intertwined Gentle stabs of leather into the skin A blood-colored sheet of him Skies full of feathers, A birds snow or a blanket to hide under, Pitch-black highs on a lovers cry Dangled feet sank into the reflected sky."}
{"text": "# 234\n\nThe pavements and roads made a cross, and buildings leaned against each other like they needed support. The sky was pitch black; the streetlights formed dark shadows following whoevercrossedthem like a rebellion had been spotted. This particular night, all the lamps had ceased their shower in a symphony. The little light makers had taken up the responsibility. Sounds of two heartbeats could be heard but none saw. I was there, right there, standing by. If youre wondering who I am, youll get to know me sooner. But at this moment, I was a spectator. Two women by the dark of the road stuttered out as their feet spoke. They had ragged breaths, with hasty steps as they walked into my parlor or they already were in it. I do not think they needed any light, as they seemed quite confident about where they were to. I did what I had to do. I followed them. This interests me, they smelled of something familiar, and I had to see what it was that connected us. I saw them cross a bridge. I heaved a sigh from all the work I had been doing. They gave occasional glimpses to the back, and I could see their eyes lingering on me every now and then. They did not mind my presence or they did not see me at all, either could be true. The older girl looked like she was in her late twenties. She wore a pink dress that reached her knees and a brown cardigan over it.She could be a tree, easily, just upside down. Now that the light of the moon reflected through the water, I could see a bit of them. The little girl could have been around thirteen. I saw the girl obsessively look at the water. Her body leaned over the rims of the bridge. I waited for the older girl to pull her back, but the older girl herself stood in a lifeless manner. If I had to stop her, it would be too late. Seconds ticked by, and I waited for the deed to take place. I think life snapped back to the older girl. She pulled back the little girl hard enough to fall back to the middle of the path. I wont let you. You cannot. It has to. I cannot live like that. well find a way. Theres no way. Not if you dont help me. The older girl gave a promising look I must say. They buzzed in light hushed tones. They continued their walk to the other side of the bridge after a few nods and what Id call courage. After a few steps, was a cottage. The building was old, and the paint washed off in a few places. It was dark except for the ground floor. The girls walked into the building and onto the reception. I could see a couple of men lurking around the doorways as their eyes strolled around the girls. The girls made their way through it. As soon as the receptionist had laid an eye on the girl, he made a call. Room 234 he spoke as he put his gaze back to the register. The little girl drew closer to her sister with each step she took. They walked upstairs to the silence. I followed them upstairs. I wondered if theyll look at me the same way they looked at those girls. However, nobody batted an eye. These girls went up the stairs. A man in his thirties had opened the door. He did not speak a word, just opened the door wide and waited for them to welcome themselves into that strange room. Room 234 had two spaces. The older girl sat next to the man while he looked at her. She signaled her younger sister to sit away. So, youre here after all? I am., said the older girl. I told you; you would not go far; youll have to come to me today or tomorrow, said the man smiling with these golden teeth out. It was either that he did not brush or something else that provided the color. The girl looked with her eyes out. I could not say if she was nervous or planned to live with this man double her age. Her legs were agitated; I could see her hands putting into fists. The man saw no response to his statement and so continued to speak, your little sister, is she? Shes pretty. A little less than you may be. Hey, you want to sit near me little girl? I have all the chocolates you might need. It was a mocking tone, and it did not sound well. It had proved to make more of an effect on the older girl as she grew an inch more affectionate to this man. Would you like me to pour you a drink perhaps? said the older girl standing up and drawing close to him. That sounds well the man replied. The older girl poured in the ice and then poured in the drink. On the rocks you, see? He took a sip and then a gulp. He drew closer to the girl. Leave me. shrieked the older girl. Oh, now youve got a voice I see, what if I dont? youll run back to the other side of the bridge? Go ahead. But how would you live, wheres the money? said the man while he tightened his grip on her hand pulling her closer to him. Please dont do this, you promised something better. Said the young girl. Oh, and you did too, shall I have- the speech was disrupted by a heavy push. It has caught the man off guard. The little girl had gotten on her legs and pushed the man away. You shall see! the man had been angered. He went from the older to the little sister. His hands engulfed her neck. She struggling tried to loosen the grip. You want my hands on you as well, dont you? said the man in outrage. Please leave her, please leave, she doesnt know who youre, she is small, please, please, see it would not be good if she dies. It would not be good. You have got a wife and kids. Perfect life. The older girl whimpered as she tried to take the mans hand off her sisters neck. To my surprise, the mans hold had loosened. What the girl said had made sense, didnt it? He got up from the ground and sat back on his armchair. His drink had started to get warm. Who likes their drink warm? He gulped it down in one go. Ayy woman, come here, be mine, else you know. He warned the older girl. She got up and walked to him little by little. He caressed the locks on the side of her head. Her face was the last thing he saw before his head dizzied. The room was circling around, and the man could not see anything. His soul was loosely wrapped in a wretched cloth. I had trouble taking it, as even I, found it filthy. I did not know if this kind of lifeless day would be wished for by anyone, the way he knew he was drowning in alcohol, whereas it was his own soul that emptied him like a rotten boat. All I know is that this man was missing three teeth when his body was found. The two girls were nowhere to be found. They left a while ago, letting the man sleep in peace, or perhaps rest? It is now that I know. These girls smelled of me. They smelled of death. -Adity Shah"}
{"text": "# A couple of hers\n\nif I wereher-1 Mom cried the first time she saw me go, I was happy, and I told her how my first day of school was. She did not look at me. She stared into blank space. I could see my reflection in her now glassy eyes. They looked like looking at the sidelines of a beach. A high tide was due. She did not blink for the seconds I did not count. When she did blink, it was pulling a lever to a dam, and the water made its way to the city. It started with one small drop, a rain's warning, but more drops followed. I shook her, Mom why are you crying? Arent you happy?. She did not hear me. Was it a game? Minutes later she was back to me. She said Lets celebrate our first day eh? and we walked down holding hands, with her asking what else happened today? and me going on about it. what if? -2 Today she was home late. The liner against her eyes was smudged. It was a daily thing, and so whod notice? I never did. But today there was a different abruptness in her actions. She tells me to never eat in bed. She ate in bed. Her hands were shaking while she held one end of the spoon. Had she gotten so old in a day? my eyes followed her figure through the dark. She was done and had turned off the lights. As she slowly slid in under the warm bed sheet, there was nothing. I think she was asleep. I waited for her hand to land on my temple, as shed pat me to sleep even if I was already asleep. It was her love language. She did not speak it that night, or if she did I would not know. I feel asleep waiting. midnight memories-3 It was midnight when I saw it. Can you guess? may you guess? No. I saw something. In beneath the sheets, the awful darkness that engulfed us, her and a movement. I had woken up in the middle of the night and felt as if the bed had been shaking. A soft muffled voice hummed through the pitch black night. Was it a song? An answer. No. It was her beside me rolled into a ball of her despair. She tried her best to keep it as soft as it can. It was not music. It was a cry. A cry that took me too long to understand. It was not music. It was not beautiful. I saw broken parts of her that were wanting to be stitched in back to her. But it would still hurt. It did. But I would not understand, for I fell back to sleep. ----- work in progress-------"}
{"text": "# shuffled 12am\n\nI do not think about you. Or I did not, until now. I am over the feelings. I am over the giggling until I cannot anymore. I am over the thought of thumps up mixed with alcohol. I am over the lying mid road, waiting for a car to meet me dead. I am over the lots of things that I cannot remember, and it proves very much that I am over you. Adi, you were so much of a me. And I felt you drifting away. And the funny part is that I let you go. In fact, more than that, I packed up your bags, held your hand and led you out that door. I keep thinking about the few bangs over the door. The rusted breath. I kept wanting to let you in. I knew you wanted to touch me. Hold me and shush me a night, make love to me, make me feel how special I could be, but I am not. How could I not? I kept thinking about the time we spent together, and the day when I said, you know you are always welcomed Adi. You smiled. You smiled. And I knew itd be everything Id want if you ever asked for what I wished for my birthday. I never knew songs could smell like that. Every song that you draped around my body like an oversized shirt. I felt like itd all Ill ever need. Maybe we need more to live than I can count down my fingers. I am a lover, or an ex, or a passerby. But youll know, youll know soon. Youll know who am I. I will make sure you do.I tried to write. My words have been void of emotions. Izi said, people never steal part of you, you just willingly give it away. And when I packed you up, and away from me, you took some beautiful beautiful parts of me along with you. Maybe you did not care. Maybe those parts just lie under your bed, deep within, you never clean that in, so it lies there forever. Not that I cannot make new. And thats what Ill do. Ill make new Adi. You know me. And I am sure, I took away some of you. I have contained them in my words. I have put them in a jar, given them shape, and slid you in the old pages. Perhaps, I knew Id hate it all. And when I do, Id need you. And thats where Ill go. Maybe you feel youll never be in love with anyone ever again. I feel the same. I feel like, I can never be able to know why we arent together. Somethings are just mysterious that way."}
{"text": "# A Day in the Wild\n\nToday, I was out in the wildlife. This is what I'd say as a student who spends most of her time indoors. I had to get an admit card for my upcoming exams at college. I just want to describe a series of events. The first thing that happened was that a lady fell between the metro gap while boarding the metro. Another lady helped her back up. For some reason, my reflexes were rather slow. When I saw the scene, my intrusive thoughts went like, What if they start the metro now? She got up, however, it took a little while. I was just standing at the metro door with my shoe against it. I did not want the metro to go without me. I finally moved in when she got up. She had a really huge book held in her hand, it was Elements of Mercantile Law by S. Chand. I wondered if she had exams and that would explain the situation pretty well. I am light-headed as well during exams. Once long back time I was so busy revising for an exam that I was about to miss my station at school. It was by the grace of my friend(nemesis) who asked me You do not want to take exam? nice It was one of those scenes. It was a little heroic to say. He took my hand and we ran out of the bus. Not to mention I had not even paid the bus fare. You could say the whole bus was waiting for my stupid brains to work better. I did not pay the fair in the end because I was too baffled by the idea of I was just about to miss my exam . In pressure, even the money bills are non-traceable. You'll never find it on the first go. Anyways, back to the metro day. Some middle-aged dude in the metro said, The metro gap is so huge anyway, and she faked a smile. He didn't know he was not helping in any way by telling her about the humongous jaw-breaking metro gap. I shifted my attention to the other things around. I did not want to converse back to the girl as she had enough attention for a day and probably did not want any more of it. We got a seat, we sat. The next thing was that I found a little baby girl, and her head and nose were really small (so were her feet and hands). Her eyeballs were too huge for her eyes, they looked adorable. I just kept looking at her the whole ride. I would also check station arrivals every once in a while considering I have a history of missing my station busy looking at toddlers. So this young lady kept checking every human on the metro and then proceeded to eat her hand. Ihadto check if she had teeth, and I leaned down to see inside her mouth. She didn't have any teeth. She was not much of a smiler, she only smiled when her mom said something, which was not audible. Another lady was eyeing her with the same cheer I had. We exchanged smiles and glances. I could tell she was also finding this little one's company lovely. You know, when you smile, your eyes narrow, and I have a feeling that cannot be faked, much of it anyway. I got down at my station and proceeded to walk to college. There I got to know that I had apparently come on the wrong date, and the whole purpose of my visit was soiled. I did not feel remorse as I was probably decaying at home. A fresh breath of smoke was all I needed maybe. I stopped by a breakfast restaurant before getting home, had pav bhaji there, and calculated the amount of space I had to squeeze in some noodles. AND FAILED. After standing in front of the menu for 15 minutes, I ordered some Dhokla to go for Granny and told myself I was one amazing person because I saved money there. These out-of-nowhere pats on my shoulder make my day go. I also decided I'd get some momos from outside. By the time I reached outside, I was impatient and just wanted to be home. Oh, and I saw one more child. He was making monkey sounds in the whole place. On second thought, it was probably louder than a monkey. Respect to parents. I had around 10 notes of 50, and I was counting how much more I could order, and suddenly, this lady, out of nowhere, came and said, Can you give me a change of 200? You'd give it to them anyway. I was spooked for three seconds as she was probably eyeing my money. But what she said made sense, so I gave her four 50s. I got that 200 broken again by the store. The monkey child, oh god, I imagined putting a whole bread bun in his mouth so he would probably just stop screeching so much. On my way back, I saw another toddler. She got into the metro and she swirled on the pole thrice in a row and very quickly. I went Woah, crazy. Her dad told her not to, and she, like a nice child, did it more. I loved that. Okay, yeah, that was it, I got back home and slept for two hours. It was raining heavily, the air was misty, and everything was amazing for a while.----image taken from: https://in.pinterest.com/pin/575616396134807362/written by ME. LOL."}
{"text": "# Missing\n\nWhy are you missing? Therell be days where you meet people, and there will be days you do not. The point is, realization can hit you at any moment like a frisbee right in the gut. Where have you been? Where were you when everything happened? What were you doing? To a student such as me, I did not had answers to this. I think there are days when you feel very insignificant. Maybe you think, your worth is proportional to how many people go like Ah I wish she was here. When you realize theres not going to be anyone do that, you start to sit back and really think about what have I been doing? .The answer to this seemed pretty plain and dull. I could sum it up in one word and to dull it out even more, I did not even stumble. Think about this. When someone asks you, tell me about yourself you fumble and you stammer, you even do some thinking. It is probably because there are so many things about you, a plethora of information that you need to filter and put the relevant parts in your speech. So it to me indeed seems like a bad thing for someone to be so definite with their answer. Okay fine, lets do this.What were you doing the whole year?Studying.There, you have it. You broke me out and you gathered a very significant piece of information about me. This does not seem right, there must be other things too. Yes! I thought the same. But most and major part of it was this. Anyways. Lets get through the details shall we?So on a 30th of December of 2023 when I decided to fix my wardrobe, it lit up a part of my soul.I started with what I had majorly to deal with. Books. And even more than books. Copies. So many copies. A copy for this and a copy for that. They were not empty. They had infinite information that I had completely forgotten about. I looked through each copy trying to grasp the relevancy of it. Keep or throw? I started with looking at my accountancy copies. I had started with 3 of them and we were at a whopping 5 accounting copies now. To add to that, I had taxation written in 4 different copies. With law I had settled for two and that was a shocker. Costing had me at three copies in the end. To add to that I had 2 copies for tests purposes and one for audit. I had really been a copy maniac. But these copies were filled to the brim and I could not really throw away any of it. I resorted to restructuring the copies in a better and cleaner manner. You know the point of this is, this is what I was doing all year. I was studying and I was writing and I was doing something. And regardless of what happens tomorrow, Ill have this with me. So, cheers mate. You were not missing. You were present in your own company. You created something.Also heres a list of other things I did.Learnt Chess. Watched anime. Mastered composure. Wrote a few things left and right. We dreamed to draw a bit of animation. Oh, and we really dug into the whole Marvel universe until the endgame. Oh right and I like Katara. So theres that. Got a new calculator. We had a crazy music era. But it ended, and so do most things. Lost and never found maybe. Yes, this is how it is going to be."}
{"text": "We can walk down the aisles like we'd get married. You can get a ring that's merely a loop around my fingers. And if I could play our life in loops, I'd still want it. hearts on hearts, mind on mind, we could be nothing but halfs of each other. I could be the evil and you could be the nice. You could be pay for something once and I'd fall for you twice."}
{"text": "The sound of laughter, the vision of a smile, the lips curving into a half moon, spreading across the face, reaching ear to ear, the narrowing of the eyes, the act of doing it, and the act of you doing it because of me, makes me happy, makes me do the same act. We are two horses across the chess board, you there for me, and I for you."}
{"text": "I write stories for you but they are too long to read. My paragraphs are hefty, my words do not make you sit, its a too much of a google to visit. So I look for music, the one that could carry you and me along with a symphony that could touch a heart. You know there's no feeding anyone can ever do. Will. Will's there. Do you have it? Do I have it?"}
{"text": "Sundays. I have done all from crawl to cry, from laugh to fly .These days are the beginnings of a week usually, and for me, an end. Sundays have been like that night's sleep we all require after a long day. To me sundays were both demonic, but also something I'd look forward to. Sunday mornings were nothing but bike rides, mixed with vegetable bargaining and heat. Heat of what? summers? you must be wondering. No, it was the heat from the freshly cooked puri, that'd steam out and hit my fingers in a flirty way, go slow go steady . I was incapable of eating anything without having juggling the leafed plate in my two hands, desperately trying to be able to rob the pleasure of that one bite. What a fight! Papa would help me through the chore, with the steeled hand of his, he’d hold the plate, while with the other he’d tear a bite. I’d phoo in it and crumbling the aloo that tried hard to slip away, but not so easy I let it, the joy finally reaches my tongue. This is what is yum. I lived for this. I lived for the Sunday mornings. The day that comes after the mornings is demonic, after faking my studies the whole week, Sunday was the day I’d be caught. A weekly check of progress, what’s been taught? I’d make up things to cover my tracks, a plan with uncountable cracks. My dad would immediately smell the guilt in my lies, and that’s how the whole day flies. He’d cross check each of my fake made accounts and my discrepancies are all out! Sunday was a working day for me. I’d study more that day, than any all week. The evenings were gloomy and called again for another bike ride, we’d cross lakes, and see the lights flicker and then bright. The leaves rustled to a song, the wind danced and made my hair sing. I opened my arms until I was bonked on the head, “this is madness” he said, probably why I have both my arms intact to my set! A Sunday there was when Papa was tired. And the next Sunday too. The Sunday after that he was busy. And the Sunday later, he did not like it anymore. Thanks for reading, end of my lore."}
{"text": "Another letter, a last one. Come to think of it, I just stopped after a while. I deleted those emails, I made sure every bit of you was gone and washed off me. But then like the ocean tides, you cover me at all the high tides. On a day you're shallow, you barely reach my fingertips and you're pulled away by the currents and at night you cover me whole like a blanket, and the warmth keeps me up all night, waiting for the while I'll be cold again."}
{"text": "18 march, 2021 Leaves fallen down all the way. A few trampled, a few bended over the joints, yellow and dried smelling of some old love. I wonder if these leaves ever felt remorse for not ending up in someone's diary? How beautiful it would be, to be picked up and loved? I wonder if these leaves just got old, or did they fell ? Why are love stories, that ever lived always were always incomplete? Why does this cupid's arrow feel like hell. This lady,I remember would gather all these leaves, every morning . Her old arms stretching in and out, occasionally fixing her crooked spectables. Sometimes looking at me she would give a silent nod. She smiled at times looking at the kids playing by. She would spend some time gathering these unwanted failings and then looking at the children would silently walk in. She'd toss the pile away in the fire. What a good flame? A flame of fallen life about to die. I wondered if it was a way to burial. A memorial to the ones who couldn't make it, or stay intact in the harsh winds. She'd at times sip through the tea and look through the window. Awaiting a storm, or perhaps rain, she'd wait for the autumn to come and a few more leaves to fall, knowing she's not the only one to do so. A written commandment of love over the yellow leaf, had lived through the years. And he's yet to come. -the leaves that didn't make it through the pages."}
{"text": "“what is it to be alive?” “ it’s a lot of things, buts its mostly about how we feel.” “what kind of feelings mom? Is it liking the way I feel about cotton candies? The sweet and soft and pink. Or when we lay down across grass?” “no dear, its never just those. And it will not be like that always.” “no no no, I want it like this always. This is called living. You said it was.” “ I wish my darling, but to be alive is to feel. And feelings are all kinds. Some can make you feel hurt.” “ is it the way, when you get angry mommy? That makes me sad. Is that hurt?” “ If you don’t eat your vegetables I’ll be angry and it’ll make you sad but I will not be sorry about it my dear. But what I am talking about here is different. Sometimes you’ll feel like you can hear your heart beat. And you’ll feel your skin shrink. People shiver. And sometimes they try to stop it.” “stop what mom?” “stop feeling. they try to stop feeling. But that is the difference, between living and dead, one that does not feel is destructive. And one that feels a lot, is self-destructive.” “ mom do people die when they are sad? Like aunt Helen” “ Aunt Helen was very sad. But no, my dear, sad is a feeling. You cannot die of sadness. But you might if you stop feeling. That’s when the heart stops and people live on” “But she had a heart. I heard it when she hugged me. It was beating well.” “ ah my dear, it is a little too mature for you to understand. You’ll know when you grow. People think one is sad for what is wanted and not reached, but sometimes, and I think most of the times, its about craters. Holes in people, like a screw knocked into them nicely and then ripped out at a go.” “mommy, I am old enough. You say I am a big girl. I tie my own shoelaces. Even the uncles say I am smarter for myself. I understand. You’re talking about the holes we made on the wooden table right when we tried to add this screw and it didn’t look good later so you took em out. Now the table looks like cheese from the sides. Hahahahahahahahhaahah” “My my, the kind of things you remember! Your uncle wasn’t lying about you! Now enough of old mold talks, you’ll end up really bored with your mom soon if we continue this way” “ No time with you is ever boring. Mom, you know, you, can tell me if anyone makes you sad. I’ll tell them to stop making you sad. I am a big girl. Even my friend in school, she tells me when someone makes her sad. Then I tell that person to not do that. And everything gets okayyyy. ” “My little chirpy, you know, back in those days, your mom, I walked on such thin ice, one step I’d step a little too hard, and I’d fall in cold water. It gets you numb, cold water. But I managed to come out of it.  And when it feels like water could not get colder, and the ice was thick enough, I’d fall in again. A different place this time. But that’s how you learn how to walk, and swim when you feel like drowning. Even when you feel numb, but one part of you would always remind you to, live, and keep living on? Who knew I’d have such a beauty like you. If I knew I’d absolutely live for you.” “…” “Cherry? Ah, she slept in my lap.” The mom landed a kiss on the little sherlock’s head, and so that’s how the evenings end."}
{"text": "What do you wanna become when you grow up? a mother? pfft, that lacks ambition,anyways, tell me more. A wife? I would like to have this beautiful library, and a garden, we can learn about life and death in there?I'll love the part about loving and being loved. I'll fight, and I'll resign in his arms each day. I'll paint on his nose while he sleeps, and kiss him and manage to get the paint on my nose as well. isnt that pretty to think of? stupid, that's like planning to live on someone's money, you'll never be able to be independent that way!!! okay, then I want to be a writer. Or maybe a reader? I can teach, and learn. That'd be great isnt it? No, pick something better, like something with plenty of money? what the goal, how much money you wanna earn before you die?I dont..I wanna earn enough for to live, and manage expenses, but I don't feel any thirst for money Hmm, guess you dont dream as big...shut up, all I wanna be is happy. You get to choose what makes you happy and everyone claps about it, why not me?"}
{"text": "Where do the daisies grow? – ending People search for love in flowers plucked away from the trees. They search for it everywhere, but under the sleeves of the ironed shirt, or perhaps a hot cooked meal in the between of summers. They search for love over the phone while people sitting right in front of them are barely visible. I do not know what to say. I haven’t been able to find a place that allowed me peace. From college to home and home to college, if not there, we walk from the aisles of the evening crowd, wrapping an egg roll into the tight fingers, of my hand but then I have to be home. They do not provide any peace either. It’s just an event. Want a place to stay that allows me without sweeping away in the crowd, want a lover that loves me while I sink my fingers deep into the packet, lick off the spice through my tongue. ENding- last How many endings do we need Adity? We need only one, but it should be happy. Boo. Cliche. To be honest, we are never at endings. Just chapters end. Which chapters are yours? Are they really yours, or are they mine?"}
{"text": "There are two things I do. One is that I give, and the other is what I take. Do not get your mind twisted here. We are talking about words. Plain grey words. Why grey? The last lover that left me said he learned many things from me to which I asked, “all good things I hope?” and he replied “Life is not black and white. It is grey. And so there are both, positives and negatives that I have learned.” I could not comment any further on this. And so we, go grey! love and hurt? Something I read a while ago, is that love and hurt are synonyms. I have not written or diagnosed it but sometimes I do understand why. And I have seen it. I have seen the hurt, and I have seen the love. It’s like loving something in so much abundance that your heart yearns for it. It isn’t all pinky promises, it isn’t walking on roads with hand in hand. It isn’t love at all if you’ve never hit the lows. and it would not matter if you weren’t there What could be the most hurtful thing you have ever heard? maybe something like an “I hate you” or an “I do not love you anymore”, it could be different for different people. And for me, it was this. Your heart will divide itself into pieces when it realizes that, its presence there or not would matter. That you’ve been fighting with your loved ones for something that is not even remotely yours. That kisses on lips or cheeks were just sensations of an empty mind, which could never be turned into something real. We should just kiss like real people do. Symptoms of a fresh bleeding heart When love is not returned, your heart gets empty of giving love and never receiving any. And so what do you do? what did I do? I sat reading books about love, convincing myself that love is nothing more than a chemical reaction and that it will be over before I even know it. That is the only hope we got. A small reaction that can go decades, or a day even. Nobody is supposed to be blamed right? The problem with a bleeding heart is that it gets tired really fast. It loves too much or does not love any at all. The good part is that you get used to it. It will not bother you anymore unless you’re skipping nights of sleep listening to music."}
{"text": "I like my pictures lonely. The way it feels like it was spring the flowers forgot to bud and bloom, like a day the night took over. Like the places you never wanted to go to, but you did anyway, not regretting even bits of it. Like half assed moony smiles, the state of confusion between, to smile or not to? Like dark nights, the way I despise them, regret waking up every night, buy still find peace in them. Like a story that started from the end. But all stories start from the end, don't they? I like my pictures like the locks that keep falling on my forhead, and get pulled back behind my ear. Yet, stubborn they're back again. I like my pictures like the half eaten pizza I couldn't finish, and throw away either. I still regret not wanting it then. I like my pictures like the stars that didn't twinkle at all, insecure that the moon is worth more to be watched. I like my pictures like soil, just after it rains, and the way it tries to just sink you in. But here's what,yo u do not like rain and so let's take the sun. I like my pictures like you. Just like you. Sunny on a winter morning, just the way you like them. The same very way I like you, without complexities of how or when- That no certain part I want, but all of it. To like you enough to never love you. For love sure is a ton of beautiful messes. I might already be in one. I wouldn't want you in. But you might, just come. Maybe."}
{"text": "It's funny how people keep on moving in life, meeting new people, doing everything they can do, clinging on every new appourtunity, and here I am stuck over some old street, your messed hair and the nervous smile, the old. And it feels like nothing new, can ever make it up, no one else. It's that some feeling of something missing. And I know, I've been missing the part where I was just I. -Missing part."}
{"text": "He feels like home. He smells of it. He feels like something so fragile and delicate, and at the same time feels like the stormy wind that broke the vase with tulips by the table. He feels like the pearls as if gently left over the shores by the sea waves. The same waves in which the Titanic drowned. And so did many others. I might too. He feels like the stone, in which somebody tried to carve his name into but stopped halfway. And the pain, it lives in him. Still. He feels like the rain that brought floods to some part of the state and the other was the one I danced under. He just feels like so many things. And I could never just stop feeling him. I end, or they end in me."}
{"text": "Dear Charlie, I wonder if you're even there on the end of this deal to read this. It really bothers me if you are not, but maybe that would be a better part. You know Charlie, I dream in chess boards and exam papers. I have come to think that I might be thinking too much about them right before sleep. For proof, it is rather 11.57 pm right now,the classic bed time and I am thinking of you. Charlie, you were in a book. Or you're . Well, not very classic and I can be the girl who sleeps at 9 too but I do not wish to miss out on fun. Yes you may ask me, what fun exists between 9 pm to 12 am heh? Its not particularly a gold mine of fun, but it certainly eases my mind out. No Charlie, I am not having sex in that timeframe. I just kind of chill around. Music you know? Charlie I had completely forgotten about you and I apologise for that. I knew there was a time I re-read your hand written letters and thought to myself that there would not be anyone that exists like you and that was both amazing and terrifying at the same time. I do not think you were the god's reighteous fella but I find you pretty reasonable with your thought process eh? I think I had brief moments where I was extremely jealous of what Sam and Patrick had. I did think it'd be great to pass through tunnels while listening to a music on high. To feel infinite and not limited at every instance. I wonder if its just the people you shared the moment with that made you feel infinite or was it just you. Plain you? I write very weirdly Charlie. I often sit and think, boy who should I write to and usually go with the first person that pop off my foggy brain. I am never able to completely write off but today seems a little different. I think I am exploiting this time very nicely now that I am getting it off my system completely. You know I often predict patterns very well. I am well aware of what might happen next. I sometimes willingly walk into the hot ashed stones still red. Maybe its the idea of feeling strong or the idea of what if it isn't this way eh? I also kind of randomly write things about people and its crazy because I do not exactly feel that way on the surface. Its always when you peel out a few levels and you'd be suprised of how I have been keep subcoscious diaries about people. I am not really interested in them Charlie. For one I think its all just web my mind had laid down for me to get stuck to. Like a self sabotage you see? You click one of these folders and you keep wondering for days, weeks or months why you even have this information, or why you took out time togather it even. It is honestly a waste. Relationships are. Okay, who am I kidding. I havent really encountered a person who is interested to kno me yet. I mean, I did, previously eh. But that's the thing you know, you eventually figure out all the stories and soon there's none to tell. being more honest there I kind of push people away. So I think of a time when you used to be relatable to me. You kind of are. I mean, you seem to be the guy who would wait for a random friend to tie his shoelaces whilst your entire group has moved forward. Or the guy to wait for somebody confident in their road crossing skills to cross the road side alone with them. We arent really Christmas kinda people but I remember this time in school, Bunny knew it was me that had gifted her. I dont even remember correctly, but it was a notebook, a pen and a keychain maybe. I still cannot think why I would gift somebody a copy but in my defense, I thought everyone was psyched on seeing new copies as much I was. Oh yeah? I loved my hanwriting and that led me to write a lot. Not academically because I would eventually get tired of writing pretty and later on get accused of forgery. It was crazy day when I showed my teacher that I had no stable way to writing and would just change based on mood and time stability came to us really late Charlie."}
{"text": "I have been watching a lot of web series/anime/movies lately. When it comes to movies, theme based on villages or middle class really gets me. It could be the relatability or the fact that we dream bigger than us. With anime its usually some heroic action series where the protagonist is out there to save the world and ‘help’ others despite being weak or not cut out for it. If I make a Venn diagram out of this the common thing out here is hard work that eventually leads to satisfactory ending. Satisfactory because not all stories start with zero and end at 100. Satisfactory because 100 is not the largest number on the scale. And being honest, zero to hero never happens in 2 hrs. 18 mins. You reach a 25 and keep going up until you reach a 50. You get stuck dejected. You may fall back to 24. And gosh, so many choices. You go forward, or you stop, or you try again? And in case it has still not broken your will, you try different things and eventually reach a 100. When you’re at the top in there and take a breath after all the adrenaline and the feeling of winning has washed out and all you can think about now is, “is that all?”. Well, I call that relatable. Anyways, this is not what I wanted to talk about. I just felt like singing about the unsung pats on the shoulder. Parents just slowly get relatable as you grow up. Not completely but you can see the mechanics behind their choices. The ‘try’ to provide with what they could consider the best. I could mostly hate it, and I do, but sometimes I really feel as if its preparation for a war that I’ll be off to someday. The taunts or the strictness, or the ‘learn to do this on your own’ or the stories about how society functions. I don’t think I have ever appreciated it(like father like son) as much but it, at times feels like a cheat sheet on being good at what I do. Criticisms made me better(not all but okay let’s give credit where its due). Now, this all could be a repercussion to watching those many stories on the television that I have this moment of appreciation where I circle out the endless unconditional support and just one condition on the line, “do your best”. Calling out on the fights or difference of opinions, it’s a part of being together. Be it anywhere. Well I am pretty sure I’ll be kicking in the dust or punching the air depending on what happens next. Either way I just want to remember feeling this way. I am a forgetful human you see."}
{"text": "Here’s a little something for you. A day. A heart wrapped in a sweatshirt. A cold winter with pecks of sunshine. The stardust falling off from your eyelashes like fairy glitters. The road, filled the clatter of two souls, walking side by side. The street light their perfect candle , perhaps a little brighter. Not enough stars to count in the wishes of a life falling of the subtle branch of potential. All the potential just turning into the ashes, sown back into the earth like it finally belongs somewhere. Empty canvases filled with white, a colour unseen, a little delight. The chuckle of a mad man. Words. Tons of them. Futile promises of a long period of time. A thief. Stolen kisses. Never a heart. Pages. Pages, full of people, but not one alive. Time turner. Turns in time. Turned days into nights. A crawl into a stumble, a stumble into a walk, finally he ran. He ran so fast, that he leapt through dimensions. Parallel words where skies were brown. The sea was solid and the land melted down. The Cinderella never lost her shoe, why would you part with something that fits you so well. Perfection was a myth. Or even so, is it? A small offering to my dearest writer’s block, XD."}
{"text": "Today I was out in the wild life. I had to get admit card for my upcoming exams at college. I just want to describe a series of events. The first thing that happened was that a lady fell between the metro gap while boarding the metro. Another lady helped her back up, when I saw the scene my intrusive thoughts went like what if they start the metro now. She got up, however she took a quite time and I was just standing at the metro door with my shoe against the door cause I did not want the metro to go without me. I finally moved in when she got up. She had a really huge book held in her hand, it was elements of mercantile law S. Chand. I wondered if she had exams and that would explain the situation. Some middle aged dude in the metro said metro gap is so huge anyway and she faked a smile. He didnt know he wasnt helping by telling her about the humongous jaw breaking metro gap. Inside metro, I shifted my attention, I did not want to talk to the girl as she had enough attention for a day and she probably did not want to talk about it. We got a seat, we sat. The next thing was that I found a little baby girl and her head and nose was really small(so were her feet, and hands). Her eyeballs were too huge for her eyes, it looked adorable. I just kept looking at her the whole ride, also checking stations every in a while, since I have the history of missing my stations cause I was busy looking at toddlers. So this young lady kept checking every human on the metro and then proceeded to eat her hand. I had to check if she had teeth, and I leaned down to see insides of her mouth. She didnt have any teeth. She was not much of a smiler, she only smiled when her mom said somethings, which were not audible. There was another lady eyeing her with the same cheer I had. We exchanged smiled glances. I could tell, she was also finding this little one's company lovely."}
{"text": "You know, when you smile your eyes narrow, and I have a feeling that cannot be faked, much of it anyway. I got down at my station, and proceeded to walk to college. There I got to know that I had apparently come on the wrong date and the whole purpose of my visit was soiled. I did not feel much bad as I was probably decaying at home. A fresh breath of the smoke was all I needed maybe. I stopped by a breakfast restaurant before getting home, had pav bhaji, calculated the amount of space I had to squeeze in some noodles. AND FAILED. After standing in front of the menu 15 mins, I ordered some Dhokla to go for Granny and told myself I was one amazing person cause I saved money there. These out of nowhere pats on my shoulder make my day going. I also decided I'd get some momos from outside but by the time I reached outside I was impatient and just wanted to be home. Oh and I saw one more child. He was making monkey sounds in the whole place. On a second thought, it was probably louder than a monkey. respect to parents. I had around 10 notes of 50 and I was counting how much more I can order, and suddenly, this lady, out of nowhere comes and says can u give me change of 200 u'd give it to them anyway. I was spooked for three seconds as she was probably eyeing my money. But what she said made sense so I gave her four 50s. I got that 200 broken again by the store. the monkey child, oh god, I imagined putting a whole bread bun in this mouth so he'd probably just stop screeching so much. At my way back I saw another toddler, she got into the metro and she swirled on the pole thrice in a row and very speedy. I went woah crazy. her dad told her not to, and she like a nice child, did it more . HAHAHa. I loved that. okay yeah that was it, i got back home and slept for 2 hours. It was raining heavy, the air was misty and everything was amazing for sometime."}
{"text": "Sach kahu, lagta hai jaise naraz ho tum mujhse. Abb, meri kya galti, tum hastey bhi nahi aajkal, chup chup si baatey hai. Kuch toh kammi hai, jo humey khali hai. Hass hass ke theek hai koi baat nahi bolti jaa rahi, mud ke dekho toh lagta shayad khud ko pagal bana rahi. Shayad hamarey kuch nai meh bahut kuch, or aaj nahi, meh koi kal tha hi nhi. Abhi se kal, kal se parso, kab honey lagey. Hassi meh khamosiyan janey kab ghulney laggi, Taarey bhi janey kab tutna band kar diye, jaise koi icha hi nahi bachi. Din badal gaye hai, raatey bhala kaise ruk jaati, Sona sabse aasan jaise, or uthna sabse mushkil, Raatey na abb jaagti hai, din bhi kuch ghum se rehtey Yu chaltey rahe badal, Or tum bhi chal diye, Hum ruk jo gaye yahi ruke reh gaye."}
{"text": "last email I wrote something a few days ago. It was 15th of June. It's been a while I have written to you. You know there are a lot of things, but I wanted this one to reach you. I like my pictures lonely. The way it feels like it was spring the flowers forgot to bud and bloom, like a day the night took over. Like a story that started from the end. But all stories start from the end, don't they? I like my pictures like the locks that keep falling on my forhead, and get pulled back behind my ear. Yet, they're back again. I like my pictures like the half eaten pizza couldn't finish, and throw away as well. I like my pictures like the stars that didn't twinkle at all, insecure that the moon is worth more to be watched. I like my pictures like soil, just after it rains, and the way it tries to just sink you in, BUT WAIT! You don't like rain...okay so let's take the sun. You know, something about you? You're so sunny! I like my pictures like you. Just like you. Sunny on a winter morning, just the way you like them. I like you. You feel so warm. I guess that's why my heart keeps melting. Just kidding. I know I haven't actually met you, or hugged you, how do I know that you're warm? You just feel like it. I miss you every day, not like every hour, but atleast once and the I can't count how many times I do. I sometimes wish I got replies. Also, I feel selfish for expecting things in return, but then I feel like I am...anyways. I am sorry for not being there. Sorry. I wish I was. Yours, Adi"}
{"text": "If the stars breakdown, Do they get mixed in the soil, Do plants grow there and become trees, Do stars look at the earth, thinking of the grave of their old ones? Do they still mourn, gasping or they just blink? Is just blinking a mechanism to cope up with the pain? Or is it just some refraction of stupid lights which makes us think all of it? If stars could break away like that, why couldn't we? Why couldn't we just break away, like blast, Getting mixed away in the soil almost like disappearing from the existence of whatever we could've been. Our potential lifes? But that will never become real. I don't exactly know what all this is supposed to mean. But why do you wish when a star breaks away? I don't know . I just feel like we are somewhere the stars. Do you ever just think about it? It can we that all of us have one star that resembles us. Some people die everyday to put up to certain wishes of people. People are stars. All of us. And the sky is black. Moon is idk. Some beauty perfection shit. Everyone wannna be like moon. Can we just give attention to that tiny little star the corner? Look how amazingly it's all alone in there. The way it wouldn't form a constellation, be like everyone else. I guess I love it for that. Because. You still shine."}
{"text": "you feel like everything I got. I feel like I could write stories and stories about you. But where am I in those? Am I even there? hello. I want to go on the top of the world and confess how I just, I just do not want to be sensible around you. I keep thinking about us, more than you know. more than you'll ever know. Cause these thoughts will never reach you. Call this miscommunication, but my love likes to sit on a rocking chair and read a 70s love story, discussing if I'd want the Heathcliff kinda love more or Edgar's sunshines. This is me. I want you to know, and I'll wait for the day you ask me. you make me go dumb, and I have never loved being dumb so much. Sounds like my doom. smells of it. love it."}
{"text": "I think of the stairs, and I think about falling I look down the floor, and I walk like I am crawling A talker am I, or a listener you A killer I am, or a killed you Tremble at the border of edges, or skim across Run against the shadows Or let them cross? Everything's faster and faster when it's race, Oh and hey and where's your grace?"}
{"text": "So this is basically a declaration to myself. A talk with me from me. I know it feels like everyone is doing things that are 'happening'. The dim light pictures on a street with a few street lights and petting a dog whilst there is nowhere else you got to go feels like a dream you want to live. The idea of being 'present' and doing something practical and making it 'count' seems to be a blip in your imagination. You can no more feel the air or sunlight on your skin. I did not dream pizzas and cafes but I guess even plain old grass is something unachievable. I guess the basic motivation to move forward to me is not anything else but plain grass and actual human beings. No, plain grass, human beings and some"}
{"text": "I saw the Rain meet the Soil, in an afternoon Sun's toil, I saw the Rain meet the Soil and l saw him let her slide Take within, and let her subside I wondered if it were the Rain that planned the same or it was the angry Clouds who threw the Rains out of her house. Rain had nowhere to go, in need for a shelter, she found a home. Now that they're together Rain , all moist and numb and in want to succumb , Taking a lift from the Air, decides to go back to the Clouds She must have changed Rain squeaks And the cycle repeats Clouds defeat the Rain's will Pledging to never see Clouds again The Rain storms back to the Soil's bill This time the grief is too much for the Soil to suck in He tries and tries and never knew such highs To Rain it feels like the pain will never stop ever Though, what's the proverb, never say never? Tis like a handpump's pushed lever, After a while the weather's clear, As to where the story ends tis when the Sun sets The river town slowly melts."}
{"text": "I saw the Rain meet the Soil, in an afternoon Sun's toil, I saw the Rain meet the Soil and l saw him let her slide Take within, and let her subside I wondered if it were the Rain that planned the same or it was the angry Clouds who threw the Rains out of her house. Rain had nowhere to go, in need for a shelter, she found a home. Now that they're together Rain , all moist and numb and in want to succumb , Taking a lift from the Air, decides to go back to the Clouds She must have changed Rain squeaks And the cycle repeats Clouds defeat the Rain's will Pledging to never see Clouds again The Rain storms back to the Soil's bill This time the grief is too much for the Soil to suck in He tries and tries and never knew such highs To Rain it feels like the pain will never stop ever Though, what's the proverb, never say never? Tis like a handpump's pushed lever, After a while the weather's clear, As to where the story ends tis when the Sun sets The river town slowly melts. -Persephone"}
{"text": "I drag my feet across the sand, I wet my eyes with ocean waters I steal a little thunder from the clouds And throw a tantrum like the waves on a dusky night I roar to the winds, I let the wind howl I let the spirits run dumbfound and skittle They whisper in shushed tones, she's the devil's mittle I gasp and I sigh I let my emotions high I let the ground crack and take me in I let the ship sink I let my heart drown I let everything and everything down It's a woman's rage, that'd lead the world to an end age You'll cry and weep Sing songs and pray sleep And when the sky showers heat the other side is where we'll meet."}
{"text": "Hey, I know we haven’t met lately, but today we did, I held you across my lips Like a lie you slipped through out of a frowning face, You even though not the best in shape or size Always had been little eager to criticize, I look at you, and a mock comes into my mind But I held you across my face, Until my lips reached the canthus of my eyes. You’re moody aren’t you? You go and come at your will, Never tried being a slight civil? Sometimes I force you on me, You dry out like something pulled out of ground, dragged in, pushed out, But you, my dear never shout You slowly build a house with broken sprouts, The birds eat them a slowly away, And like everyone else, you let them have their way! But today when we met, My hair all pretty and set, The sun kissed me and you together, We laughed out in a symphony, shying away, pieces in pieces, tender A moony pretty weather, Can I not hold you again? Tomorrow or just another day, or the next time it rains?"}
{"text": "chuck chuck chuck, get up she said as he pulled the blanket off him. That was the last resort one could walk into the cold winter mornings. The first thing that was revealed was his legs. Long hairy legs. His shorts yanked half up, crunched around the thighs. His stomach was bare, the t-shirt had slid up and was jammed around halfway his chest, the mouth was open as he continued to drool. Compact saw the scene and immediately reconsidered the decision, what if unveiling Chuck was hitting the boundary? The cold air spread like a colour, in those drawing books, and he came back to the land of living. He shivered and coiled around himself like a prawn in the pan. He opened one of his eye and peeked. Taking a while to locate the person realisation struck him like thunder, he stood up in a jolt what the freak?! what are you- he said while adjusting his clothing doing in my room he continued. ah, get over yourself, you don't exactly have a droolable body. I came to apologise for last night she said. Did not know apology begins this way. Plus, you could have waited outside, but no, you decided to walk in at 7 am and pull away my blanket he said with a straight face. OH my my, sleeping beauty, it is 9. I am late. and guess who else? YOU. get up I aint got time for your tantrums, no time for shower just brush off that stinky breath. Oh god, its like some rat died in your mouth Compact said as she walked out of his room thinking some privacy was required. Chuck could have replied with something wittier, but considering the time crunch, he decided to let her win. He opened his closet, finding for something fresh to wear. Patience had given up on him after digging his hands deep into the pile and he turned towards his love to help him out. Black. He wore black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans along with.  Compact started her cycle and Chuck sat in the back of it. From the looks of it, we all expected a car, or atleast a bike, but here they were paddling on a cycle like seven year olds going school."}
{"text": "Neville and Xavier walked through the train while it hit the icicles and while it fell down like a biscuit dipped in tea. Most stories start with a less climatic beginning. A motion of relieved atmosphere, and that is when two people meet, in the idea of an evening tingled with sizzles of a symphony, a sunset, and a friendship that in the later chapters might result in either death or love. Or love, and after that, death in a chronological order."}
{"text": "Stories that start with once upon a time always do end with a happily ever after. Not this one. Or not the best ones ever written. But this is neither a story, nor a spoiler alert, you’ll know if you want to. Now, wouldn’t you? Once upon a time in the kingdom of Contradicnia was a person named Celus. You’ll be wondering how the name of this place sounds like a disease, and it could be because it had one. The prophecy was at least an decade old. It was declared by the monks who worshipped the Endermon, The god of future that everyone who was born within the walls of the country shall be different. “One who shall be born, is one who’ll be dead, the seeds on the corn turn into lead.” The monks feared the Endermon and his wrath, and decided to take the matters seriously. It was informed to Achilles the king of Contracdinia and the court was set to decipher the code provided by the God of Future itself. The chief ordered the court to present ideas, and it was not before a stamped of words had taken place. Some courtmen agreed that it was the god’s idea to make them rich with a lot of lead, and completely ignored the death part. The public of Contradicnia waited outside for to know what was about to happen. Some rumor had it, and it will it had something related to corn. The corn farmers grinned and expected a corn shower. Rest just stood in anticipation of results. The life story of Celus As it were known for the prophecy to come true, the unexpected took place. Poor farmers ended up becoming rich landlords as it were destiny and told of it since after they were born. The rich feared their sons and daughters would put an end to their legacy of fortune. The wealthy saved none for their progenies, after all who fights the destinies? Contradicnia grew popular for its contradiction in life. Everyone knew what was to expected, and what to become. The stupid laughed and rejoiced, “our children are gonna be wise!”. A havocking night had just begun, a storm had taken place. The cheer died, and people shut their houses tight. For someone out in the Enderman’s temple, a baby cried. The wind sung a lullaby and then cradled the child down the stairs, blood was everywhere. A family of two living nearby, heard the silence after the cry, the lady of the house rushed out. In the storm, she roared like a ship with no bounds, as if called in the gods to put a pause. She picked up the baby, wrapped him in the old bedsheet cloth, and rushed back to her hut. The farmer kept the door open for her. “Sonja, you would have gotten us dead” said the farmer. “The child asked for me” snapped back Sonja to her husband as she tended to the baby’s wounds. “We’ll wait for the storm to be over. Maybe we’ll find her parents” said the farmer. “Hmm” said Sonja, while she waited for the declarance of life. It was the morning that the baby cried in a shrill tone, Sonja held him close to her chest and wept to her fullest. Miranda and Celus --- The law of opposite ---- The birth of the differents ---- Helen and Elionis"}
{"text": "Clara The first time I saw Clara was when she was but a child. Her hands were so small, and her eyes were somehow bigger than her nose. She was like one of those pixar animated little girls with wonder waiting eyes. Clara was a student in the school I taught at elementary level. It was my first job as a teacher. Clara had so many questions. All the kids did. But when Clara said she’d never fall in love, it was concerning coming out of a kid who was in kindergarten. It was a statement that shook me as all I could see in Clara’s eyes was love. She was a child oozing out with love at every glance. More likely, she wanted to give it more than to receive. She was like a live version of BMO from Adventure Time. As a teacher new to the job, I was told by the authorities to be professional. This meant no involvement of emotions with my students. There was nothing wrong with Clara on a normal child rational. She liked to race on who copied the white board the fastest. Her lunch was regular tiffin. She did not cry easily, but I remember whenever she’d get angry at me, she would bubble her face out, as if there was water inside her mouth. I am pretty sure she had learned that from the cartoons she watched. Another thing about Clara was that she could not be angry for more than a while. Eventually she would forget what was she angry about and mix in like the usuals. Clara’s parents never showed up the parents teacher meeting, not the three times report card were given in. I’d hold onto to it, hoping one day her parents would be so wanting to see their child’s progress that they would show up. Just like that a year had passed and Clara moved on to the next class. Just like that I had a new set of students to teach. I saw Clara a few times after that around the corridors but I had no solid reason to personally involve in asking questions. A few years had gone by, I had made progress. I was assigned to be the head of the grades sixth to eighth. This meant taking care of events, and if someone made in a trouble. It was a busy job but I knew it was"}
{"text": "i)Mom cried the first time she saw me go, I was happy, and I told her how my first day of school was. She did not look at me. She stared into blank space. I could see my reflection in her now glassy eyes. They looked like looking at the sidelines of a beach. A high tide was due. She did not blink for the seconds I did not count. When she did blink, it was pulling a lever to a dam, and the water made its way to the city. It started with one small drop, a rain's warning, but more drops followed. I shook her, “Mom why are you crying? Aren’t you happy?”. She did not hear me. Was it a game? Minutes later she was back to me. She said “Let’s celebrate our first day eh?” and we walked down holding hands, with her asking ‘what else happened today?’ and me going on about it. ii)Today she was home late. The liner against her eyes was smudged. It was a daily thing, and so who’d notice? I never did. But today there was a different abruptness in her actions. She tells me to never eat in bed. She ate in bed. Her hands were shaking while she held one end of the spoon. Had she gotten so old in a day? my eyes followed her figure through the dark. She was done and had turned off the lights. As she slowly slid in under the warm bed sheet, there was nothing. I think she was asleep. I waited for her hand to land on my temple, as she’d pat me to sleep even if I was already asleep. It was her love language. There was silence. She did not speak it that night, or if she did I would not know. I fell asleep waiting."}
{"text": "Fox The Pigeon, stood at the edge of the cliff. He looked down and saw endless possibilities. To live, or not to? Fox had lost a lot in his life starting with his wife, Foxita the Pigeon. Fox knew  that he had to compensate for her loss of life. He thought about the kids Ox and Ita, what will they do when both of their parents are dead? But who cares, they’re pigeons, they can figure out their drill.  And so Fox, stepped forward, took a breath and let the skies feel his wings. But Fox the pigeon forgot that he is a pigeon. And the good Lord gave him wings to fly. So - as fate would have it - instead of fluttering down straight and being hauled like a cotton base of blood, he started flying mid-air and ended up on the side of the roof of the neighboring house. The cliff was obviously a cliff of his choice - but as pigeons don't have vision as good as the human beings who created the houses, he couldn't understand that vertical alignment of structures is possible even when the magnetic field of the earth is horizontal. Fox didn't become the Hamlet-a tragic hero he was supposed to be by the readers reading the first para. But there the story unfolds. If Fox died in the first para, nobody would have been able to know what actually happened to Foxita and her children Ox and Ita. And now, just because the story has to progress, all worked up and flushed, Fox heads for the home where Ox and Ita are sleeping. Fox was a young boy of 12 while Ita was a girl of 11 years old. They were two dumb kids but they were smart when it came to sneaking up on the big talk. Fox, the pigeon knew that there was a way he could get Foxita back. She had run away with the neighbour, Pigeon, the Fox. Fox knew that something was weird about the tension that'd be there when Pigeon visited on monthly checks. Pigeon was one of the officers in charge of the animal kingdom. His duty was to go on monthly visits and charge the food tax. Fox sat on his bed dull, he felt the place where Foxita would usually sleep, mumbling about how her whiskers needed some trimming. Fox wished he had given more importance to her nose that would collide to the ceiling everytime she looked up vertically. He kept thinking what he'd tell the kids, where did their mom go? he took a sip of cranberry juice and closed his eyes. The kids looked at him whilst he was asleep. Ita  got a blanket and Ox got Fox a pillow. They tucked him in whilst he was deep asleep, and proceeded to fall asleep just beside him. The night was beautiful. Fox got Foxita's face hung up in the gallery of his mind like a sunflower planting its seed in the melody of the mud. Love springs up in places it is always least expected - so was the case of Fox and Foxita. In fact, from the perspective of Foxita, it mayn't even be love at all. It was customary in the houses of pigeons to marry some higher animals, like foxes or lions. Now of course Foxita wouldn't let her womb up to a creature that may just gobble her up after an intercourse whatever the pride is. And Pigeon the Fox was her parents' favorite too. The marriage was almost fixed. But Foxita rebelled. Rebelled because she had to. Without rebelling she felt like there was no character of youth. But her rebellion ended up in the home of Fox, whose ceiling even wasn't enough for her beak to give space. She thought to herself, and even loudly - which Fox lately heard were growing more frequent - what a poor choice she had. Fox thought it’d be okay soon. Her wife Foxita would eventually fall back in love with him. He’d think about the days Foxita would put food in his mouth when he was sick. Sometimes she’d poke him accidentally while sleeping. He remembered all those days and realized that Foxita was gone a long time than her actual elopement. She kept telling Fox that she was not “into” as Fox had forgotten to love her like he had promised. Foxita on the other hand, was out on the shoulder of Pigeon, the Fox. She kissed him with passion and a hint of guilt. Foxita was in Pigeon’s home, in her bathrobe waiting for Pigeon to come to bed. She had a brief thought about her children before Pigeon was back to the bed with a glass of whine and much love to provide. She felt her crinkles tighten up, and her youth come back while she clinked the beak and cheered to her new-found freedom."}