A boy's journey through words and the mixtapes. I write every Thursday.
When she is near, it is all butterfly and stars.
I dissolve. I unweave, loose. I get lost.
I want to be with her forever.
I feel whole. I feel the feel of this foreign, colorful pashmina wrap over my body; and quite alarmingly only when she is around.
With her, I don’t want to be found.
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The light coming from the lamp post outside my house.
The darkness my eyes see.
These weak, peaceful sounds my ears find.
Empty street. My family.
All these, all of them, only when the night falls upon the horizon, and as they sink in to rest, as they connect,
make my day the whole, the perfect.
Comments closedIt started raining while the night is still young.
You’re in the music I am listening to, my stupendous love.
You wish too many great things to happen… all at once.
Cute. Credulous.
My you.
🍀
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYlsGiUrAl4
It is a different universe here.
Here I pause and reflect back. Toast to life’s gratifications. Learn. Unlearn. Relearn.
Here I acknowledge, admit, correct and promise my mistakes.
Here I fix what is broken.
Here I throw away my anger, tragedies, frustrations, regrets, and despair. Never having to swallow them back ever.
Here I unburden the weight of the ever-metastasizing thoughts.
Here I metamorphosize.
Here I stitch, comfort, listen to my weary, worn out, marred, dirt seeping soul.
Here I share. Shape my imaginations and understand, color my feelings and doodle my whereabouts.
Here I connect to you. Here I breathe the clean air.
With blank papers here, I live paper weight everyday.
Here I go naked about my imperfect, good, twinkling, dwindling, liberating, concealed, unhealthy, healthy, rotating, revolving life.
It’s a good place to be here.
It is a different universe here.
Comments closedPick anything, speak your truth.
Open your heart, tell your story today,
because if you don’t, if you must miss;
no one else is going to do it for you.
Meaningful dust.
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Relationships will be put to test. Both of you will make mistakes.
Both of you will have misunderstandings. Not every day will be a bed full of roses.
Somedays you might not feel like talking to anybody, not anyone.
Somedays you might have a dry thirst to just want to be left alone without any obvious reasons, any questions asked.
Somedays you are a soft comma, some days an exclamation.
But no matter what, promise me to promise up-front, you’d save each other’s back when you need one the most.
Promise me, to promise up-front, to talk your way through should you argue. Apologise. Weep. Hug. Cuddle. Laugh and have a blast for as long as you live to love, love to live for each other.
Promise you’d let your love of life be fire, be flawed, be free like the rainbow colors occasionally painted on the sky.
Promise you’d make space for him, for her like our enormous outer space. Make the other feel deeply cared in your humble universe.
Mom affirms,” Our short life is a long journey. Wherein, the most rewarding part of the ride begins from when you finally have someone special in your life. The one who vows to be with you, hand in hands even in every worst possible odds.”
Comments closedRemember you wrote, I like you in ways a woman likes a man.
But, don’t bother.
Please, don’t fall in love with me
again.
She fell in love. She was flying.
She turned to butterfly, never was the same again. Firefly.
The first meet. The first heartbeat.
The first terrible, terrible laugh. The first touch.
The first kiss. Every sensation of it.
The first dance in the rain. That first candlelight evening.
The days that followed. All the nights slept.
She is an undiscovered feel. She is a something else, rare chill.
She is happy with me. Lucky me.
She is no way a match, an honor to poor me.
My melting, beautiful chocolate mess.
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