Stepping through the corridor, entering through the main door, she puts her bag to the side and crashes herself onto the sofa. The tie of her hair comes loose, her feet go up on the table, and the remote gets picked off the cushion, channels switching mindlessly, one after another, going nowhere in particular. Nearly …
Amongst the creeping dread, bloodshot eyes, and senses thick with something rotting, living on the second floor of reality is the center of agony. Everything here is defined by bitterness. The people sitting in this room are so full of darkness that they carry radioactive masses of absence within them, shadows living off the chests …
Home has a road near it. Road is cyclic. Because it is surrounding an area. Area is green. Road has houses all around it. All houses have trees in between them. When the wind blows, trees sway lightly and rustle loudly. They look beautiful. Road has street lights across them. They pour their dim glow …
It’s funny, I guess, how we can never find out if this is the last time we are meeting someone. It’s not just funny, it’s something saddening too. You know what else gives you that same ambivalent feeling? Your electricity bill. You’d be surprised, even stuck, by how bad it is, and wonder if it …
When she plays hopscotch outside the house, she likes all her five-year-old friends to be with her. She also wants her grandmother to sit across the road. Just sit, doing nothing. Nothing but watching her. Nothing but sitting and looking at her from time to time. That is what she wants. This is one of …
A jar full of candies. Wishes half-boiled on medium heat. Hearts exchanged at parallel positions during midnight. A lottery won on a fluke. Answers to the lost questions in the desert. Winds blowing in the desired direction. Seasons arranging in the coveted order. Miseries falling like dominoes. Views shifting as per the desires. Life happening …
Some people are not meant to be a juggler, while there are some who live their lives as a master of all skills. Some not defining the worth of anything, and others carrying the abundance of everything within them. The strong, roaring waves of a beach strike the rocks with a bang, but the silence …
Winters are often remembered for long nights, heavy air, fog-laden darkness, and the misty marks they leave upon the thoughts of many thinkers, I think. They become the season of longing for hopeless romantics. Suddenly everyone seems to be on a bench in the dark woods. Alone. Searching for something, watching the road for a …
Some people describe perfectionism as their quality and hobby. They are proud of it and boast about it. Why not? I think it is something that we believe qualifies us as intellectuals and ranks us high on the scale. But one thing I have learned later in life is to unlearn perfectionism. It does not …
This is a realization article. Now, I don’t know what it means—if this term doesn’t exist, then I’ve just invented it. In my dictionary, a realization act is something that made me realize anything in this life, something I’ve been doing all along but has turned out to be either wrong or not quite right. …