Tuesday, 24 March 2015


"Till I loved, I never lived" Emily Dickinson

Love has a life on it's own. A fire that is enough to ignite everything that comes or avoids its path. Invisible but everywhere. Unleashing itself at the most unexpected.

She loved. Love wasn't about possession to her. It wasn't about telling them how she felt. It wasn't about how she never wanted to let him go. It was a paradox.  To her. She couldn't put her love in words. She couldn't find the words, leave alone the right ones.

She didn't need to. Because she knew that everyone around her experienced it in one form or the other. Earlier or later. As long as a heart continue to beat and the soul breathed, somewhere, somehow it always stumbled across what we creatures call love.

To her love was the sparkle she had seen in his eyes that day and that image had been imprinted in her heart. Always and forever fresh. She didn't even need to close her eyes to see him. Because he was always there, a part of her.

Love was glimpsing the rare smile that crinkled his face which made her face light up with joy and his with the beautiful glow. In turn setting her whole world alight. Like a meteor lights up the dark night skies.

She loved. Him. His voice. Rich. Dark. Mysterious. Making her look forward to unraveling those knots with love. The color of his hair turning golden in the natural sunlight. And yet the moon made it dazzle even more.

She was filled with love brimming throughout . She was completely gone. Losing herself in the love she never could voice. She didn't even understand herself the spell that had overtaken her. She just knew she was burning in the love. With the feelings she had. She was ablaze with everything burning.  Inside and outside.

The time came when there was no longer a distinction between her and her love.

Somewhere along the line she had transformed itself into the thing she could never put words to. She became.  What we recognize as love.

The ultimate feeling. Which everyone claims to feel and yet no one will ever match on what it is in reality. Because not one can feel the same love the other does. And never will.

It will always be confusing just like right now. It will always puzzle the one who tries to understand it. But it also makes sense of everything. There is in this world and beyond. Confusing isn't it?

After all somethings are better understood and felt than said. Some things are just loved. Without reason.  Beyond reason.  Just because there is no answer to why.

She became love in the certainty that life is full of uncertainties. Something, someday, somehow may bring him back to her. Her love. 

Saturday, 7 March 2015


"Others often ask us to define ourselves, to tell them who we are

Who are we?

We eat, we sleep, we dream, we love, we pine, we hate, we hope

We lust, we smile, we work, we rest, we calculate, we give, we take

In all the midst of the turmoil of being ordinary, like the rest of the world, we just….are

Sometimes we see ourselves reflected in the pages of a novel we are lost in, 

In a movie where it feels like your story only if with a different ending

In the innocent actions of the children playing along the street

In the whispers that pass by

In the shadows that surround us

We hear our names pronounced on the lips of our loved ones

We find ourselves voicing out names of people we feel like belonging to

Trying to find something, someone to purely call our own

We are hidden in the shadows of the night,

 In the color of rainbows that are seldom seen

In the flowers that are so fragile yet still bloom.

We are neither wrong nor right

Neither pure or impure

Black or white

We are not other people second-hand experiences

We are the essence of the combination of our personal journey with our different experiences

Most of the time, like the rest of the world we just…are

Without ever fully knowing who we….are

We just…are"