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The Faraway Soul Sisters

Once there were two girls

Girls who were classmates and liked each other.

One had a gang and was popular enough.

The other one was an insecure student with no friends and hence became the teachers’ pet.

She wanted attention. She wanted to be liked by others. She wanted to befriend the popular girl but then she realized she is a misfit and not needed around. She started reading novels for the first time back when she was 15. She never liked novels her mother got for her but read comics. Her attention span was short. She wanted to please people and feel accepted. She was messed up like any 15 year old and lonely. It took her sometime to befriend her loneliness and turn it into beautiful solitude. That popular girl remained her Faraway friend with whom she shared this really enthusiastic HI whenever they met. 

Years pass by, both graduated from school and went to Delhi University. Coincidentally both joined girls’ college (different ones of course) and incidentally remained in touch after school. They met each other once or twice an year, had quality time and wished each other a happy birthday on calls. You know that’s a big deal in today’s time. Eventually they both became mutual admirers of each other. 

They both were Faraway Soul Sisters. They did not know. 

One fine day, they just start talking regularly and for some strange reason both go on a journey of self discovery. They both indulged in deep life talks and absolute shit too but it was all too good to be true.

The point is that humans evolve. The popular girl embarked on a journey where she evolved as an art and the other one became partially mature but mostly angry young ambitchious woman. Both are insecure. Both look forward to self discovery. And they are in this journey together in the present moment but they are not sure how long their companionship will last but sometimes there are moments you feel that these two are Faraway Soul Sisters who are as messed up as those crazy crows that flow. Yes flow. It’s not a typo. The sentence doesn’t make sense to make sense of the point you see. I don’t know how to end this blog post so I will go by saying

“Mac and Cheese is the greatest invention of all times.”

Bye!

P.S. Thank you for being my Faraway Soul Sister.
To my dear Readers, I am sorry to disappoint you with such a weird ending but you see now movies are open ended so why can’t blog posts be ūüėČ

After Dark

Waking up to a morning full of mission and goals,

I run to bath, to bus stand and hang around metro poles.

Breakfast is eaten on the go and sometimes forgotten.

Full of energies for work yet exhausted without supplies of caffeine.

This generation as a whole is messed up.

People in relationships feel tied down and restricted when they want to be selfish.

People who are single have big dreams and no one to stop them except the person they see in the mirror.

Sometimes all they need is to be loved instead of being workaholics that they are and the ones in love want some space despite the fact that they love their better halves.

We are a generation of messed up souls.

We are super productive throughout the day chasing our dreams, getting promoted, achieving milestones and working towards our goals and occasionally cracking up jokes, hanging around just because it’s cool and we need a break.

It’s after dark that our hearts become vulnerable and we open ourselves to our own deep thoughts and feel scared and broken.

And existence becomes a pain.

Loneliness is our only companion in nights of gloomy rains.

I have often found rains romantic. My heart still feels like a hopeless romantic and sometimes it is a dead stone thing. Paradox you may call it. I call it experience and disappointment and an effort to protect.

Wearing hearts on the sleeve makes life pretty beautiful but at the same time prone to accidents, stabs and murders of emotions of love.

After dark, there is darkness within and Harry Potter comes to rescue.

Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light.

Communication and little bit of love is the light we all seek, it is the light we all need, it is the light we all have within, it is the light we miss to find within. It is the light that exists and therefore we exist too.

Every morning brings a new day even if the pillow is wet because of tears of last night.

Hope arrives every morning in the form of sunlight.

So whenever, you feel the darkness within after it is dark, just go to sleep.

Sleep over your problems, sleep over your sadness, sleep over your tears and let sunshine smile through you.

That yellow light on the face brings a smile that will fight off all the demons that haunt.

Life is beautiful and powerful. You are sexy, just go out there and flaunt.

I have to let go.

How many times does it happen in life that we get attached.¬†I am a person who gets attached very easily. I am attached to memories, places, books and most dangerous of all, people. Even though I read a lot and even though I am extremely well read about things in life, success, failure, loss, love, art, poetry and attachments and the art of letting go, the law of attraction and maintaining a balanced life. I am only human and I often fail at managing my¬†emotions, I am the kind of girl who has been blessed with great career opportunities,¬†amazing teachers, wonderful family and loving and supporting friends but I fail at relationships. I am not the kind of girl who plays the game of “hard to get”, I am an extremely straightforward and often confused person because my moral system says something else and my wishes often collide with my moral upbringing. I am an old soul in this new age. I love too much when I happen to love and that somehow ends up in hurt because the universe doesn’t like for me to be in love. When I graduated, it was so hard for me to let go of my college campus, almost every month I went back to my college just to sit under “my tree” where I finished reading so many novels over three years of graduation. I would leave my post grad classes early just to go back to my alma matter and have that cup of caramel coffee. I still haven’t let go of the place where I found myself, where I learnt to write poetry, where I had my first performance on a large scale, where I created so many memories and met so many amazing people. And now I have to let go of my alma matter. I am learning to move on. But you see, I am a slow learner and life wants me to be a little quick, it is making me part with a very dear friend and letting go has never been this tough. As we grow up, our attachments grow stronger and as we grow up, a lot of people leave. Some leave you for good and some leave you and they teach you a lesson. Some leave only to come back again and when these people come back, you forget that they can leave even now. Saying goodbye once is hard, saying goodbye twice is the hardest thing. But I have to let go now and I have no clue how will I do that but I will, someday.

 

My heart is like a child,

a very delicate child,

it does not know the art to let go,

it only knows hope.

Hope that angels exist.

Hope that love is forever.

It lives in a dream land and does not like when life wakes it up.

My heart wants some sleep, some sweet dreams.

But this child also knows it has to grow up,

it will have to parent itself.

It will have to let go.

It will have to let go.

I have to let go.

I am a Hopeless Romantic

image

Pictures source: Internet. Quote by Sylvia Plath

I am a Hopeless Romantic. I dream every moment of my life. I believe in those dreams. Reality often tries to give me new spectacles so that I could see reality but I like these illusions in my head that appear real. I will gift you a bouquet of red roses to let you know I love you. I will sing you songs whose lyrics would describe how much you mean to me because my eyes will speak silently and you’re dumb and don’t understand the silence. I will cook pancakes for you on sunday because you love them. You will be my poetry and like spring winds you’ll flow. I will do things for you that you wouldn’t even know. I will help you to go wherever you want to go. Most importantly I would love you enough to let go unless you want to come back to me. Because I believe in true love. Because deep down I am a hopeless romantic even though I act like I am not. But I do know that I am one looking for “The One.” But I think I am the so called “the one” because deep down I am in love with the idea of love. Again I am allowed to dream. So why not? Let’s be in love with the one. We are the one.

What is Real?

illusion-art-painting (21)

“Children see magic because they look for it.”

-Christopher Moore

Yesterday I happened to have a conversation with a friend about how we create our lives. Those who read are often smitten by quotes. You get a basic idea about a person’s mind by the pages they follow on Instagram and Facebook and the quotes they relate to. The question we raised was “Do we really relate to quotes or have we accepted them as the truth of our lives? And we’re perhaps too blind or lazy to prove those quotes wrong.” There are about 7 billion people on the planet and a lot of them relate to the same quote, which is absolutely fine. But do we realize that most of us have believed quotes to be the truth and unintentionally the quotes we like have become the truth of our lives.
Literature, art, poetry, music is something that we live for because they are beautiful. Is it a good thing or a bad thing to  lead our lives the way we are leading or we need to change?

What I believe is that our life is part real and part illusion. We often turn our illusions into reality. When I say that I am a wizard, you might think that I am kidding but it’s totally based on my experiences in life and how I see things.¬†Everything, be it a simple object like an apple has various connotations for each one of us and we make those connotations appear to be real. In Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, there’s a conversation that takes place in Harry’s head and he questions if it’s happening in real, to which Dumbledore responds that “Of course it’s happening in your head but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t real.”

So What’s Real?

I would love to read your perspective in the comments section. ūüôā

 

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Fog

I see it breaking.
Not even breaking, just vanishing simply slowly.
With misty future, threads of ties fading.
Dryness overpowers the warmth. It’s like I am always thirsty and my mouth parched unable to figure out you. Or me. Or anything.