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.




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.


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


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.


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


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?

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?

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?

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

29: Favorite food?

30: Places you want to visit?

31: Do you have a crush?

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

33: What instruments do you play??

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

35: Last sport you played?

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

37: Favorite chat up line?

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

39: What’s your favorite drink?

40: How tall are you?

41: How much do you weigh?

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

43: Favorite show?

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.




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.




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.


We cross the line never meant to cross.
.ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ


More often an now, we come across an impossible situation where we have to make a choice, a decision that will probably decide the present and the circumstantial future. And the problem is not usually the choice we have to make, but the fact that there is something beautiful on the other side, however temporary or floating, we still want to cross the barricades of morality, even after knowing that it’s the wrong thing to do. The outcome of it is pretty simple, we enjoy crossing those barricades but then again we regret it instantly because we have this voice in the head shouting at us about the wrong choice we made, the same voice which was shouting at us to make the right choice earlier to finally crossing that line.

It’s a dark place to be in, before and after. And it’s eats us up on the inside. We try to justify in some way but there is no justification of what was done that could help us from this very inhibition.



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 : .inhibitions



Those eyes, and a world hidden in them.
. ᴇ ɴ ɪ ɢ ᴍ ᴀ


Eyes are the gateway to ones’ soul. We might have heard this a couple too many times. Most of it must be from me. I am usually the one who doesn’t look at anyone’s eyes. I fear I would sneak into their world and I understand their true emotions which more often than not is not exactly the same as they portray on the outside. No, I am not saying that I can read people, but from my experience I tend to understand the person’s emotions when they are talking to me, which usually shouts uninterested. Over the course of time, I have isolated myself than to involve myself in other’s scrutiny. Why even? But then again, we come across people who without doing anything intimidate us. Mostly its the eyes.

It was something like that with her as well. I never talked to her but yet whenever I saw those eyes, they spoke a million things all at once. Like a whole universe was inside of her and every time her eyes sparkle, it lights up the whole world around us.


I have been putting off things that I want to do in the name of getting my mojo back or say the good times to thrive, but lately I haven’t got anything do, so now I am doing a project to keep myself occupied a bit if not nothing. So, I came up with a project for myself.

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 : .Magic

Never Again

We cross the lines labelled never to cross.
– eɴʏɢma

She had been holding on to it for quite a while. There was a lot going on in her mind. And it was getting frustrating with each passing moment. Even though what has occupied her mind is a beautiful memory yet, she had been feeling about it all this while. It has been two days and she was probably dying to speak to anyone so that she could ease the burden on her shoulders. What could it be which is weighing her down so much in spite of that memory being a beautiful one? She had been feeling bad because of what she had done and it is morally questionable. As if she had thought of the moral quotient or so to speak her integrity.

“I kissed another guy”

She met him online on Twitter. A few words here and a few there, a little flirting and a lot more love (or so it might seem like), a bit of truth and lot of falsity, a bit of infatuation a lot of lust. It seemed mutual, the the lust. The love is still a questionable aspect because both were in a relationship, with someone else. Numbers were exchanged and chats turned to video calls and the rest was history. But all changed one day.

It was the day when he told that he was still in a relationship and that this girl from Twitter was a happy time pass and that this promise of getting intimate was still on the cards because that was what he was looking for. A fling on the side while having a girlfriend. She was devastated with the development that blew up in her face. She wasn’t as faithful as she should be and yet this came as a shock to her. She felt used, she felt betrayed, she felt hurt and in all she felt cheated.

He was blocked from contacting her. She made sure of that. Because she didn’t want to be that person who would be manipulated and used for a casual intimate encounter. But…she used to check him out once in a while. She was intimidated. She was in love, but didn’t want to admit that, to anyone and to herself. Because at the back of her head there was a voice shouting about all the morality of the situation she was putting herself in.

She got a call from him. She was shocked and yet at the same time intrigued that he called her. He was outside her college. She was at loss of words. She was in his car and she had lost herself. Then she kissed. They both kissed. She enjoyed every moment of that. She wanted more of that. But that moral police roaming around with a siren on top had been shouting that this is wrong, that she should stop it, that she should not even encourage it. In spite of all the red tape and X marks she went to his home, in her own accord. The fantasy had to happen. She wanted it to happen. She could have avoided all that because in some distant corner of her mind there was a voice shouting to her to not do any of it, standing over the moral integral line and urging her to not cross that line. She heard that voice, its agitated-frustrated and extremely loud but it faded away when he went all cheesy on her.

She knew that it was wrong but then again her desire to make that fantasy true was more strong. It overpowered her and she didn’t have much choice. Well, she had but she choose to ignore it nonetheless. And then again, it was the best one she ever had. She was beyond happy. She was elated. She enjoyed every bit of it.

It was a day after that she came out from the trance and saw all the moral police with their angry faces. She was supposed to feel guilty, but she didn’t. She was getting frustrated about her inability to feel even a bit of guilt for the things she did. She wanted to share with someone but then again she was scared of driving people away because of the weight of the thing she was about to share.


She didn’t want something this to happen again, ever. She didn’t want anything like this to happen in the first place. She didn’t want to meet him. She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t even want to think about him. She knows how wrong it is, how immoral it is, this being unfaithful to someone else is. And yet she did every single bit of it. But then again, she doesn’t regret what she has done. She will probably (not probably, definitely) do it again all over again. She knows that too that she will. Perhaps, she wants so.


Let’s take a moment to reflect at the people and their behaviour. Being faithful is an integral part of a person. But then again when they happen to be unfaithful what are the possible reasons for going ahead with it? Does it have to do anything with them being unhappy with the present relationship? Or is it the fun or excitement in crossing that line? Do reflect your opinions about the people being in such situations and crossing the line they know they shouldn’t cross! What’s your take on it? Well let me repharase and be more blunt at this because I am sure people have opinions like always but when it comes to them they evade. So, what would you do? You love someone but you have a desire to be someone else! And you know it is wrong, but you want it very very badly. What would you do?

But let’s just appreciate this quote that blew my mind. What beauty is this? :



Celebration is as contagious as a warm smile.

The sun was just bright and  warm while the wind a bit chilly. The soft light dispersed rays danced to a distant hymn. The sound of the bells resonated in the sunlit room. There was a pleasant air that flowed so effortlessly. An array of colored lights played in a not so distant over the boxes covered in shiny wrappers. It seemed like a theme of red, white and green. The air was filled  with an aroma of  delicious food while a houseful of people immersed themselves in prayers, wishes and songs. The children ran all around in excitement waiting eagerly to open their presents. Songs played in the background resonating an ambience of a joyous celebration. The rejuvenating smiles warming the hearts with their pleasantries as the atmosphere turned festive with every passing moment.



The music was  loud, the sound repeating itself and growing louder with each passing moment. An alarm, perhaps which was clearly not being attended to. The sun tried its’ best to fill the room through the small gap through the curtain, yet it failed to brighten the room. The shadow was the shortest at this time in the bright sunny afternoon, and yet the room radiated a monochromatic ambience. The phone blinked with a few wishes scrolling across the screen, none of which was even read properly. The untidy bed and the dark room lay still in an otherwise bright sunny day. A door opened and the bright sunlight illuminated the alleged cozy room. A distant music made way into the dull somber room. People with bright new dressed happily greeting each other made their presence while the kids ran around with their new gifts. There was laughter, there was happiness and that joy that each one was radiating was extremely contagious. The atmosphere was festive. And then the people settled to sing the jingl… The same door was slammed shut. The  slowly brightening otherwise gloomy room now turned back to reflect the somberness. There was no light again. Just darkness and  a huge void.



Wishing you a very happy and prosperous new year.
Have a great one, like always.

The Wait

“Not knowing is far worse than knowing what was wrong.”

Have you ever been in a dilemma where you want to say everything , but don’t. Because you are not sure how the person you want to say everything to would react. And that, their reaction is what scares you the most. And this being scared feeling eats you up inside, slowly. Then one moment you sit and write it all down and then again wonder just before finally hitting ‘send’, you don’t . You delete the whole thing because you don’t even want to send it by mistake and later regret, so you delete it completely. But you wonder that it might have turned it all right, if you had just sent that message. Because not knowing is far worse than knowing what was wrong, if there was anything at all. But then again, you feel that this confused state of mind is a much better place to be than making the worse of the two alternatives happen. Maybe everything is all okay. Maybe you are just over thinking. Maybe it is all in your head. You console yourself that everything is just normal.

Then one day, later the same very day, you just can’t handle this confusion that the mind is creating. The dilemma is just taxing on your work and in turn it is affecting you in more ways than you think it isn’t. And you realize that your heart is sinking and that it is being pulled down as if it is getting heavier with each moment that you are contemplating. You feel that it is not strong enough to handle such pressure; the pressure of not-knowing, the pressure of what might, the pressure of what if, the pressure of this dilemma, and everything combined. So, you sit down and search for that previously deleted text. You write it all over again anyway, trying to choose the right words but that taxing of your mind by that pressure just doesn’t let you have a proper train of thought. But somehow you write that heartfelt, or to be precise whatever is weighing you down, and finally send it, after contemplating for a few hours.

You regret immediately for even sending the message. May be it was too short, or may be it was too much, maybe it was inappropriate, but you shouldn’t have sent that in the first place.  You curse yourself for sending. Oh god, what have you done? How can i undo this? Shit! Shit! Shit! You even feel the whole universe seems to say so. You hold your head in your hands for making that mistake. But yet, you wait. You wait for a reply. Each second feels like an hour and each ticking sound of your watch makes you more and more nervous. You are this close to having a nervous breakdown. And then the status change to “Online“. Your heart skips a beat. You start to sweat. The message is now in read state. And you can feel your heart in your mouth. And yet you wait. You wait for a reply. There is none. A few seconds pass away, and yet there is no reply. You wait for more time, perhaps she is writing a lengthy reply. Or maybe it wasn’t well received and this was the end of it. And despite all that’s weighing you down, you cling to that tiny thread of hope. You keep clinging to that thread which seems to be breaking off. But there is no reply, and you find yourself falling down and everything seems to flash in front of your eyes, but you still don’t know what was the thing that you did was wrong and led to this distance. Even during that fall, your mind is making all the scenarios to make sense of all this that left you in splits. You cruse your overthinking stupid brain. And gradually, you die of overthinking and anticipation and all that overwhelming feelings. But, but.. that dilemma still haunts you even after.


P.S. I haven’t written for a while. It has literally been ages, since I wrote. I haven’t been able to bring myself to write. I have lost that train of thought and what  I earlier thought made it more broken. But I hope to get back to it, as soon as possible. I really apologize for not being able to read any of the blog posts. I really look forward to doing it from now on. 



The world faded in vibrant shades of people, the commotion increasing with each cheer, a smile here, a hug there, a shout here, a fist bump there.  The crowd got a little more momentum when more people joined the celebration as the music blared in the background. The ground vibrated with the joy of people dancing in their highest spirits. The air was filled with the spirit of what the people shared with each other, the bond that was so unique, pure and selfless; Friendship and Love. There was just happiness floating all around, the warmth that radiated from the heart.


He stood there amidst the crowd as the people swarmed all around him. The feeling seemed contagious as he too was transpired in the moment and felt part of that celebrating crowd, high in their spirits; happy and content. The stars glittered ever so bright over the dome of endless sky. He loved to see how people enjoyed, and celebrated life. The happy faces were a sight to watch, the feeling shared among them was worth a memory. He didn’t dance like they did, he didn’t have company like they did, he didn’t feel what they felt, but all he did was try to sink that feeling in, something that he never had the pleasure of.

The clouds slowly engulfed the bright specks in the sky as the crowd slowly faded away to their next celebration. As the music played its last beat, the only sound that reverberated was the sound of his breath in an empty field. Of all that had happend that night, he knew this, the feeling that the ground underneath had; empty, he knew it way too well; and the sound, the silence that spread across the vastness, he knew it like he craved for it. And as reality sink in, he walked back to his home, alone, to his solitude.