Borrowed Time.

Crumbled pages lie silently at the corner of the room as the ink went dry, the thoughts astray. The mind was a fighting a war within itself. The heart, well it did it’s job, without a care in the world. The walls absorbed the silent screams. The prayers resonated in the enclosure, breathing the aroma of its depth and finally settling at a nice corner of the room. While the night danced in the glory of the dark, the silence prevailed in the epiphany of the mind and all around. ” Tick. Tock. Tick. “

The echoes of pain glorified the dark corners of the ignited mind. What was wrong? What was happening? Questions piled up, like the torn off pages flickering in the silent monotony of the cold breeze which had the half laden thoughts of the days not yet come.

Words. An anagram playing in the multitude of emotions, thoughts and whatnot. A random apprehension of a sophisticated mind. Why are they so far away? Why can’t they come closer? What do they mean? Why don’t they make sense? Is this the right script? Does this reach your heart?
He stared at the mirror long. He tried to look into himself, through the very fragments that kept him together, intact, as broken as he might be inside. He wanted to see what was inside of him, how broken can a person be. He wanted to see what he was made of, whether the broken memories ever heal. He was searching for something within himself, something he felt missing. He was not sure what. He was not sure why. There were questions that haunted, haunted as the answers were just more questions.

Letter. They were letters that hold the story never to be seen, never to be adapted, never to be lived. A letter, which was a warning, an indication of what went wrong. A foreword to the people to tread carefully. He had carefully handcrafted it, wrote the best god damn letter he ever could. He spoke of the misery, he spoke of the lost self, he spoke of great many deals. He ended the letter with a farewell. It was his last letter signed off with a “I am sorry, Good Bye”.

Here he was again, 10 years later contemplating over the same letter, still broken, still finding his way, still trying to perfect his last letter. The time was a factor that stopped for him a decade ago. He was a lifelessly alive, stuck on the past notion, not moving an inch forward. He tried to end it, end it all, the agony, the pain, the disappointment, and in the end even his life. Time, for him was a reminiscent.

He was living on borrowed time.
The time which is not his.

______

.unwrite

Words hold a much deeper story,
when unsaid.
.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

Words always mean something. But what’s interesting and even more fascinating is that the unsaid words mean a lot more than the said ones. I used to dwell in words unsaid. I found comfort in them, knowing that what I wanted to say was out there in the open however no one ever really read between the lines. To be more honest I had never been good at writing, so when people failed to understand a normal story without any hidden words between the lines, I shouldn’t be too shocked to know that no one actually gets what I write. A part of me wants to convince me by saying that what I write is for me and not for the others, while the other part wants to find validation to the blatant truth that no on really understood or even read.

I continued to write, even after knowing that what I wrote never made any sense. But I always had this, lets call it inhibition that there would be someone out there perhaps going through what I am going through and perhaps will relate to my meaningless post. I could say that I wanted to reach out to people and convince them not to follow the path that I had followed and still seem to be following. It always gets darker and the light fades out at one point. Don’t get me wrong but in a way I am the one blowing out the last remaining candles with no match on me to light them back if there was something that could perhaps the change the dynamics of normalcy. I was so far gone that even if there was a light at the tunnel as they so family refer to, I would just ignore it and take a U-turn and go down the darker path.

No, I am not addicted to this. It is just me in general. When things happen, it sort of change people, I believe. Correct me if I am wrong. Experiences enriches people, they make them better, they enable us to make the right choices taking into account the innumerable wrong choices we had already made. Mistakes are a stepping stone and not something that crushes under its weight. The only problem with all the mnemonics is that it wold be all good with an effort made to learn from them, not if we let the weight crush us. And I believe I don’t have to explain where I stand in all this.

This had been getting harder each day. With things taking drastic changes each day, it just keeps getting more difficult to cope. And the byproduct of all this is that I have started to lose the habit of expressing myself. For one, I have found myself writing the same thing over and over and over again, and writing which one enticed me, doesn’t do that anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I still have a very high affinity for writing, but it’s just that the circumstances are not enabling me to the do the best, or even a word. This is hard. Because it used to be rejuvenating but now, I just can’t, even if I tried. The forceful writing was never my forte. I believe in natural flow of words because they are more genuine and are usually from deep within, and even if they barely scratch the surface, they are still ones own. The others have always been pretentious or even forceful and it’s not like I have a huge fan base eager to read what I am writing. Maybe there never was one because of that very reason. It does make perfect sense, doesn’t it? Well, that’s not the point I was trying to make. The point being that I had lost the art of writing, and metaphors which once kept me company in the lonesome nights and (un)eventful days, it seems to have found a new place of it’s own. Well, someone has to be doing better. If not me, then they. I am not a very hopeful person, but I will try to hope that there is still a chance for them to come back to me, well the whole writing in general.

______

.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

.haitus

I had always imagined myself to be having a vision board, with post-it notes, red ball of thread and weaving a story like the ever so creative detectives and their boards on almost all the TV shows. While they tried to figure out how to catch a killer, I would probably try to figure out how to write a killer story, or maybe I should perhaps create a board to revive my writing gene, which if you haven’t paid much attention died a while ago. I always felt the need to write, maybe because I couldn’t speak, maybe because when I did speak, it did somehow backfire. Don’t get me wrong, I have been in a trouble a lot for speaking than I was for writing. Oh, yeah, writing did create some enemies too, but then again was there ever a shortage of enemies. The shortage has always been with friends. Even the people I have come across on WordPress, I did consider them as friends, please note that this is a uni-directional one, doesn’t always have to be bi-directional. I mean to say, I have imagined to have a writers club of sorts shooting ideas over skype, google chat, I mean zoom.

Sometimes thinking inside the box is more than enough.

.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

While I would contemplate on things I did to piss people off, in which context I had nothing to do with it, but my not-so-pretty but little mind of mine would start creating new story lines with the red thread that was unused from the previous paragraph’s story board. Oh! You wouldn’t believe the theories I would come up with, it would mind f#ck a thousand ways to one. But you wouldn’t want that, I am sure. Believe me, I sometimes wonder if I should ever be admitted given the web of things my mind weaves up within fractions of seconds. I would have loved it if I was making out of this catastrophe. If only, nevertheless, we don’t want a let down of a person. We are all looking for inspiration in the very unsettling world out there and positivity is the word of the day, each day, every day. Such a fun and exhilarating phrase that is, ‘positive vibes only’. I am reassured each and everyday when I scroll up the Instagram or Facebook amidst all the short videos that float around people still manage to be inspiring. But little do they know, there is no inspiring the dead.

Oh, believe me I tried. I have made resolutions, created punishments and whatnot, but some are just dead on the inside. I sometimes wonder what had inspired me once upon a time, I was struggling to keep up with my writing, I had written page after page, bookmarking them, labelling them, in diaries in different inks and whatnot. And then someone flipped a switch and I haven’t held a pen in what feels like a million years. Maybe a pen is the trigger object like the snow white’s kiss from the estranged prince. But only if there was a curse. Well, there seems to be one and that would easily be broken by doing something about it, but who will tell my not so smart brain of mine to do than to think of doing it ‘later’.

But hold on a second. Did I catch you on a wrong day? Did I somehow let down you day with my un-inspiration? I would apologize and I should but I had done that plenty to no avail. So, I think I would rather stop doing that. And what’s that? To whom have I apologized to and why? All good questions and there is a perfectly good answer to it as well, but I have been told a good mystery is healthy. And before I go around writing gibberish, I would like to think I have made a comeback and this is nothing close to a comeback post which will blow your mind. Well, I did have one but honestly, that would be rather too much to handle and I already have enough people hating me, I wouldn’t want to pile up on that. Hate is strong word, and that is something you will associate to once I happen to bring out the best of myself with the worst.

Are you with me? I would have loved to end the post on a happy note and from what I can tell, I am nearing the five hundred work mark that I made up just a minute ago. But I would love to know how you all have been and what are you upto? If you would be so kind to leave a note, I will definitely make sure to check your blog.

winter 2021 | .ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

.smile

I never knew that a smile could scare me.
.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

I caught a glimpse on the mirror as I walked past it. I did not quite recognise the person I saw, however it has been the same face the I have been seeing everyday. But it was different that day or perhaps it has been the same and I never saw it until that moment. I stared as if I was watching something..someone for the first time. And after all the contemplation and trying to figure out the story behind those lost eyes, I was still clueless. There was so much going on the inside and yet so little visible in the eyes. And I could do was wonder how I was still standing when I have been breaking down a million times each day and why the eyes never told those untold & unseen stories. I found a mystery in myself. Interesting, I thought. Never did I think that I would make myself ponder over me. I believed I had figured myself out, even when no one else ever could. I continued to stare at my reflection. Maybe I wanted to myself to show what I was feeling on in the inside, perhaps in the eyes and wipe that expressionless face that never said a word like the personality that I had been carrying around. Unless I face it, I could never overcome it. All I was doing here was let it get trapped inside and sink in deeper.

A buzz in my pocket distracted the silent conversation with myself. It was a text message which inquired how I was doing? Without a second thought as if it was pre-programmed in me, I replied that I am doing good, and smiled as if I was telling the person in question face to face. At that moment again, I accidentally caught a glimpse of my reflection. Interestingly enough and quite bizarrely, I found was a person smiling which changed back to that former expressionless one within the next second. Quite honestly, it was getting quite boring staring at the expressionless face and I wondered how the people know me deal with me, when I am unable to stand myself for this short moment. But that fraction of a second, when there was that convincing smile when truth be told, I was lying through the teeth when I said that I was doing fine. The funny thing about it was that it looked convincing.

It sort of scared me.

How can I be so convincing when I know for a fact that I am not at all good by a long shot. I am literally hanging by a thread. All I saw was that curve which convinced me enough to believe what I had just said. Why was I even doing that? Why was there even a need to show that I was all okay when I am not? Why am I being trying to be a person that I am clearly not? Maybe I am just trying to fit in and belong in a world that is quite so judgemental and not be an exception to the social norms that we are governed with. How long do I have to continue not being myself and try to be a person falling in the premise of these illogical bracketed norms.

Maybe someday, I will be free from the chains that I tied to my feet, from the weight that I carry within. Maybe. As I pondered over the questions I had no answer to, I tried to smile. And it started to scare me each time I tried. All I was trying to do was find that happy moment when I was happy, genuinely happy and see whether I could ever be. But then again, how can I ever do that, knowing what I was carrying on the inside, knowing what I do not even remember having felt. How could I ever not fake a smile, when that was what I knew.

______

.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

.scream

The silence in the voice.
.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

I stared at the reflection on the mirror. The eyes were searching for something. Some sort of validation, I suppose, or perhaps some answers, but the more they searched, they never even got any close to what they were searching for. Maybe there were no answers, or perhaps, the answers were lost. But in all honesty the answers were always there, they were just ignored. And beside the discontentment of not having, ignoring the answers, the eyes had something else in them, a sense of disappointment.

I sat down to gather the thoughts, the ones which lay scattered, in a web of jumbled and hazy thoughts, which never seemed to make any sense. While the confusion settled in the abyss of a mind, there was this new uneasy feeling that began to surface. It has always been there and this seems to be resurfacing again which always lead to messier things and breaking the already broken. And the unsettling feeling of what is supposed to be done isn’t being done is just topping the already full glass of water.

As I sat there looking into the eyes, speechless and wondering how to answer the questions that lay in front of them, I didn’t have the answers, I never did. All I thought had was one answer or more like an alternative to all this overflowing glass of water. And that might have seemed irrational, but it was the only way that could put an end to all this. And however irrational that sounded, it was sort of comforting to know that there was something that could be done, even though that didn’t land on the moral side of the scale.

Now, there are a few more eyes trying to leap into my eyes looking for something, anything. The answers that I have always been searching for. And all could see in those eyes was something I had feared never to see. I was as blank to the questions in front of me. How was I supposed to tell that one thing that kept me going was an irrational thought and that was something that could never be said. While I sat there wondering how this irrational thought could be, no, is definitely the answer to all the questions, not the ideal solution but it was the best god damn alternative to everything that seemed to be weighing me down. There came a point when I stopped looking for any better answers because this irrational alternative was the only thing that could answer the unanswered questions while posing a few too many new questions, but that was not something of a concern to me now. Because the aftermath of this irrational thought was an abyss that I could never return from to answer any questions if there were any, which, with a doubt will be there.

However, and in all uncertainty, having finally come down to this one solution, as irrational it might seem like, this abyss that I was seeking as the ultimate solution was the farther away than it seemed. And that it cold solve all the problems seemed like an illusion. Imagine now, while I look at the eyes in the reflection in front of me and realizing that the one answer that could solve all the questions was just another failure and all I could of is screaming at the clueless reflection still staring back at me, lost in a self created abyss.

______

.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

.unsaid

I am not okay;
never was.
.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

I have said it. A couple too many times. I have said it in metaphors, translating in words that I didn’t even understand and in between the lines, or perhaps all is lost in translation.. But at the core of the things, it is still there. And I have said it way too many times or that’s how I feel. I am still here trying to say, let me rephrase.. I am trying to express in words that apparently don’t reach the people. I am not being cautious, perhaps I am scared. Or perhaps, I don’t know how to do it, how to say it bluntly. I will beat around the bush but I will not say it as it should be said, out loud, crystal clear.

May be that is why I can’t ever feel content with it, content with writing it off and hoping that it will do it’s magic of not making a permanent house in my mind. But, I am at loss of words. Writing was always my solace, my way of letting the things go and hoping that the new day that follows will be less burdened and also refreshing. Imagine the day when we don’t worry about yesterday and looking forward to great day that is to follow. How beautiful the sunshine will be, how melodious those birds chirp, how clear the sky is and how great the morning glory feels like. And in all adversity, how happy we will be, from the inside.

While I write this, I have hit the backspace a little too much. I might as well have published with the words that I backspaced. I don’t know why! I don’t know why I am so unsure about writing about what I really want to write. I wonder if I am bothered by something that I am having second thoughts on how to put it in writing. I am sure nothing is bothering me. And I think I don’t just want to write them down. I don’t want me to validate it by writing it down. I just don’t want to sign it off as exactly what it is. Because as hopeless and crass I might be, I will try to look for that tiny lost hope that it will all get better soon. That, things will change and I won’t be in this place where I currently am at. You might… let me rephrase, I am not but I think I am a little superstitious. I don’t like things getting jinxed, as in like if I tell something bad, it will definitely happen, and if I say something good, it will never happen. I have this superpower that I control the world, my world. I just have to think of it, the good or the bad and it will happen, just the one I really don’t want to.

I have written about it. I continue to write about it. But at some point, it feels repetitive. Like the earlier few lines. But today I will “really” write it. Hopefully, I won’t bring any metaphors or hide between the lines!

I am in pain, mentally and emotionally. I am hurt on the inside. I have felt hurt for as long I can remember. But I put on a façade and tell everyone that I am okay. No! I am not! I am not okay! I never was, am, and I don’t know whether I ever will be. There is a commotion inside, and that never settles. The mind is restless. While things happen and people console that it is alright since it happens for a good reason, you try to calm that restlessness in the mind. It feels better to know that there is a greener side and that there will be a knock on the door called opportunity. While the mind doesn’t stay calm for long, another thing happens, and there are voices it is for the good. I calm the mind saying that it is just round the corner. While I am in these phases, I write it down. Because writing is my solace. And I end writing that painful post about the pain that the mind is in, that I am in, while I start to feel a bit relieve and feeling that peace approacing me, there is another thing that happens. And I repeat the whole process over and again, hoping that one day it will just end. And honestly, I am getting tired of trying to write about this everytime, differently every time. I have a whole book with pages filled with this and I wonder is this how it is going to be, for the rest of the life! Is this anyway how life should be? That metamorphical rock that I keep carrying just keeps getting heavier. At one point, I just might collapse and there is no coming back when it does!

______

.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

.unblur

Somethings always come with a price.
.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

Colours. How fascinating are they? And how beautiful they are. And yet the fascination, my fascination lies with them two; monochome. You ask why? I wish I knew. Or perhaps, I wish I could explain. So tell me, what does happiness mean to you? How happy are you, right now? If not, don’t worry, you will be! How often do you look forward and want to be happy all the time? Wouldn’t you agree if anyone said that happiness is a beautiful place to be in? Of course it is a beautiful place to be in. And nothing makes me more glad to know you all are happy!

But amidst all this aura, it pulls me down a little. Don’t get me wrong, I love happiness. And also, I am scared of it. Because if there’s anything experience taught me anythimg, time and again, that there’s always a yang for yin, white for black, good for bad and sad for happy. Well, that does sound a little strtched.. something like out of context, doesn’t it? There won’t be anyone more ‘happier’ than me, if you said that there’s no alternative for happiness. But unlike you, I beg to differ. No, I am not trying to put a pessimistic approach or kill that optimistic mind of yours. I am speaking from mere experience. I agree with the odds that the percentage is different. For you happiness is a hundred percent, while for me sadness. There I did it again, brought the pessimistic viewpoint. I really can’t help it. And like I said, I am speaking from mere experience of a lifetime, so far! I wish it were a hazy opinion, a heresay, a lie, blurred emotion. But, time and again, I have seen it come back, like a stone in the ocean to ripples of tsunami, like a voice in mountain to multitude of echoes, piercing a million times over. Can the

. ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

.dotProject
A traditional post where in the writer could write anything from poetry to prose to even a single line. Basically it is a prompt based post, but no restrictions whatsoever. My current format involves a quote and a bit of a passage around it, just to make a better sense of the abstract. If anyone wants to take up the project, please be my guest. Do let me know so that I can check your post as well.

.prompt : unblur

.isolate

We build walls not to keep ourselves from the outside world, but to keep our demons locked up.
.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

_____

They ask me why do you write so much, why do I keep everything to myself, why can’t you love anyone, why don’t you hangout with people. Question, just too many questions with no answers. I smile. Like I always do. And while they wait for an elaborate answer, I observed over in my mind as to how to tell someone that it’s a dark place inside and letting people in might turn out to be the last thing they would want to do. Dark? They mock. As if they haven’t seen what dark was, they say under their breath. As if you are a special case, why even exaggerate. They mock. And all this while, I still haven’t told that it was dark inside either. I didn’t say anything yet. Because perhaps it wasn’t about the darkness inside. It wasn’t about the silently screaming voices. Or the battle inside to break through the shackles that drag them down. It wasn’t even about the suffocating thoughts that drown the mind in agony and pain. May be it’s about keeping the demons inside that no one ever even gets the shadow of it.

 

.dotProject
A traditional post where in the writer could write anything from poetry to prose to even a single line. Basically it is a prompt based post, but no restrictions whatsoever. My current format involves a quote and a bit of a passage around it, just to make a better sense of the abstract. If anyone wants to take up the project, please be my guest. Do let me know so that I can check your post as well.

.prompt : isolate

.deep

The time sometimes deepens the wounds.
. ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ

They say that time heals. I did believe it. Little did I know how blind I was. May be what time does is cover the ripped using that paper tape, which could and will rip apart anytime and there’s nothing the time can do about it. But what hurts more is that despite everything we do to heal, they do leave a scar. Some carry it with a brave symbol for over powering their short comings while some scratch the healing scars as they are too afraid to look through it, or perhaps that scar doesn’t let us get past it. Because that scar is more of a memory reminding us of the things we did and the things we should have done. Though, I admire the people who leave these scars while they move on with their business as if nothing has ever happened. But the ones nursing their lost time are still showing off that bright smile despite breaking down on the inside, every moment.

_____

.dotProject
A traditional post where in the writer could write anything from poetry to prose to even a single line. Basically it is a prompt based post, but no restrictions whatsoever. Since I am kicking it off, I would be starting off with a couple of posts with will of the above format. My current format involves a quote and a bit of a passage around it, just to make a better sense of the abstract. If anyone wants to take up the project, please be my guest. Do let me know so that I can check your post as well.

.prompt : .deep

Generosity

I don’t usually do awards, mostly because I rarely deserve any. But I am very much humbled by the people who do believe that I  deserve it. So, I would like to thank not only the ones who have nominated me, but also each and everyone here reading. I really appreciate it.

_____

The Awesome Blogger Award

I would like to thank Hira who blogs at Hira Chaudary, An endeavour of self perception for nominating me for “The Awesome Blogger Award”.

Question by Hira :

If you could travel anywhere, where would it be?
Everywhere. Why pass up such a great opportunity. But whoever is sponsoring this is going to have one hell of a day figuring out the expenses.

What is your biggest accomplishment?
Honestly, I don’t have one. But ask me about disappointments, I have a whole library of things to tell.

What is the most amazing blog you’ve ever come across?
Ah, this is a trick question. I will be completely honest and point out the one that does stand out from the rest. ALL. Yes, all blogs are the most amazing that I have come across. They all are unique writers and have a story to tell which intrigues me even more.

Chocolate or Lollies?
Chocolates, anyday and night.

What’s the best advice anyone ever gave you?
Oh, I apologize because I have a habit of not remembering things or sometimes even listening to them. So, best advice? I don’t think so anyone gave me one. Otherwise, I would be in a much better place than I am right now.

What is your dream job?
Honestly, I don’t want to do any job. I just want a never ending bank balance and that’s is. Call me an asshole or whatever you want, that is what my dream job would be.

What’s your favourite flavour of ice cream?
I don’t eat ice cream. Yeah, shocking, right?

_____

 

Too Much Information Tag

 

I would like to thank Rudra Makwana who blogs at  Tinte for  nominating me for the TMI tag.

TMI Tag Questions:

1: What are you wearing?
T-shirt, Shirt and Jeans

2: Ever been in love?
No. Never will be.

3: Ever had a terrible breakup?
Was never in love, so a hard pass on this.

4: Any tattoos?
No. But I am scouting for that one perfect tattoo.

5: Any piercings?
Nope.

6: Favorite band?
No, I listen to mostly Pop music. I just want good music and sometimes good lyrics.

7: Something you miss? 
The money I never had, apparently

8: Favorite song?
Currently, Broken People

9: How old are you?
Old enough to have Mid-Life Crisis.

10: Zodiac sign?
Capricorn.

11: Quality you look for in a partner?
I wasn’t looking for a partner. Because never fall in Love. Because too broken on the inside.

12: Favorite Quote?
Nothing comes to mind. So, basically no favorite quotes.

13: Favorite color?
Black. Like my soul.

14: Loud music or soft?
Loud fucking music. I got noise cancelling headphones for the same reason.

15: Where do you go when you’re sad?
Coffee shop. Music. And with my book or laptop.

16: How long does it take you to shower?
Long enough to have great thoughts and forget them when I come out.

17: How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?
I calculate that on how late I get. So, pretty late.

18: Ever been in a physical fight?
I wish.

19: Turn on?
Hot girls. Hands down.

20: Turn off?
Being full of oneself and being way too stupid, exceeding the predefined limit.

21: Fears?
Of living.

22: Last thing that made you cry?
I tried. I guess my tears have dried up.

23: Last time you said you loved someone?
Never said that. Never really loved anyone.

24: Meaning behind your Blog Name?
Lost in the Echo. Because I just want to fade away like that voice that was never heard.

25: Last book you read?
Origin by Dan Brown, still reading.

26: The book you’re currently reading?
Origin by Dan Brown.

27:  Last show you watched?
Friends.

28:  The relationship between you and the person you last texted?
Brother, cousin.

29: Favorite food?
ALL.

30: Places you want to visit?
Everywhere.

31: Do you have a crush?
Duh!

32: Favorite flavor of sweet?
As long as it is sweet.

33: What instruments do you play??
None.

34: Favorite piece of jewelry?
Bracelets and Necklaces, I guess. But noting gold or fancy.

35: Last sport you played?
Badminton.

36: Last song you sang?
Does anyone have a death wish?

37: Favorite chat up line?
Hey.

38: Last time you hung out with anyone?
This weekend. With My coffee, book and laptop.

39: What’s your favorite drink?
Coffee.

40: How tall are you?
5’6

41: How much do you weigh?
Overweight.

42: Last time you were insulted?
Everyday. One way or the other. I do the most, but still.

43: Favorite show?
FRIENDS

44: Favorite Actor?
Tom Cruise – This has become my standard answer.

45: Who should answer these questions next?
Anyone who has come this far deeserves to writes the answers. I am not big on nominating people and hence I apologise. But if you feel like this might give a better picture of yourself to the readers then go ahead and write the answers.

____

The Liebster Award

I would like to thank Jyoti who used to blog  for nominating me for the The Liebster Award.

Questions by Jyoti :

Which is your favorite book, and why?
This is a trick question. I want to impartial to books and won’t favorite some book and disappoint others.

Why did you choose to write on WordPress?
Because it is much easier and user friendly. I guess you meant blogging, but I had been blogging for over 8 years now and wordpress seemed like the best medium to do it. I regret not starting in thin from the beginning.

Which is your favorite color, and why?
Black. Because, that’s how I am on the inside.

If you were to wake up as a bird the next morning, what would be your reaction?
Free travelling? Hell Yeah!

Do you think that Light is what we need to spread in this world? If yes, how would you spread the light?
I think the first step in spreading anything is understand exactly the darkness that is surrounding us. Without exactly understanding anything it would be pretty useless however good you are at spreading the light or whatever/likewise. After understanding the exact factors that keeps one grounded, we can proceed to take necessary steps and precautions to help that person out.

What is Life according to you?
Basically a struggle. Life long struggle. Some do get it easy, while some work hard, while other’s (like yours truly) find it a bit tad struggle, or may be a lot of struggle.

Name a few dream destinations of yours, and mention with whom would you like to travel to those places?
Everywhere on the planet. Seriously. Well, I have thought for a while and no one’s name pop ups in my mind. I guess the answer is pretty clear. I would like travel the world alone.

Are you a pet lover? If yes, which is your favorite pet?
Yes, I think so. I seemed to have grown a lot of fondness for dogs, and I need one asap.

Mention one of your favorite songs and also mention your favorite line from it!
Broken People, Logic & Rag ‘n’ Bone Man – Bright (Movie)
We are broken people now.
We are burnin’ out
So cold, I am bleeding now, now, now
Gonna let you down.

What do you fear the most in life, and why?
Living longer than I wanted to.

 

 

Alone

We are never alone, we are just looking for someone who understands.

Somewhere out there someone is writing, writing their pain away, hoping to be free, hoping to break through the weight that is pulling them down, suffocating with each breath they take and the heavier the heart gets. But however huge the number of words on the pages might be, and however little relief they might be getting, the pain, that isolated pain still stings. Despite the huge burden inside, they put on a bright smile hoping that no one would see through their eyes and figure out what they truly say. And the thought that no one would ever understand just pinches a little more.

Meanwhile, somewhere out there someone else is in writing, writing their pain away, just like the earlier people, hoping that they might not be alone afterall.

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#connectingThoughts
A something that is prompt-based or perhaps something as complicated (or may be not) as love, or as vast as life. Now you might be wondering what the something is that was mentioned a little earlier, it could be anyting from poetry to prose, a single line to a whole thesis.
“Connecting Thoughts” was coined by Dhwani, who blogs at Sunshine came up with a collaborative idea of writing something on a weekly basis, with an aim to motivate people and more importantly, connect with them. Hoping to see you join the bandwagon.