The Silence of My Voice

Bloody retests tomorrow and day after. Sucks ass, monkey-fucking-stinking-ass. However when I'll be done with it, I'll still have a week more until college will start - second year[woohoo!]. Apparently, that. There are different theories even to reopening dates. Funny college I'm in. So that one-almost-week will be a busy one. I'm going to preoccupy myself with almost everything. Even getting useless sleep.  Meet Jagisha on Saturday. Screw the entire day, spending time wit her. We both need it. And then of course, tease Monika about it. Who, by the way, got into NIFT-H. Much happiness. Have a Photowalk again. Reminder:Call Srishti and Aparajita. Get more books. Read more. Write twice a day, if possible.  Join gym . [Bleh. Who am I kidding?] Take my mother on a date. Save money and buy iPhone, all by myself. Yeah, going to take a while, but whatever. I have to manage for my own gadgets. Try getting a Lumia for my brother too. Again going to take a while.  Wri...

Ego has never been my strong point. I'm high-headed, yes. But if an apology is required out of me to set things straight, I'll do it nonetheless, regardless of the fact that I might be at fault. But, lately, I've discovered I might just have a slight ray of ego cracking through somewhere. Because believe it or not, I've refrained a million times from establishing any sort of contact thinking if you had to, you would already have - of course, the most absurd of reasons to give up on things easily. Well, that's a cheeky way of giving up, rather being egoistic. I've been simply very narked recently, wouldn't deny that. You've been egoistic too. Yeah, really. Not that I've been leading you to read Stoner so that you could actually infer what's been going on, but still you should keep a check. It's good manners, you know.  There was a point when we were completely open to each other, absolutely vulnerable, yet at comfort with that knowledge. Be...

Nostalgia is a bitch. Standing in a moment you never want to terminate, will never seem like something you'd crave for in the future. It is never easy to forget things. Forget easy. It's not possible to forget the past. Only its soreness passes by gradually, and you carry that lull ache all your life with you - having it reside in your mind constantly, without parting even a single ray of consideration to it. But after a point of time it grows along with you, like a child. Inconspicuously, it'll pinch you in different parts. And it'll parch you with the thirst of satiating that one longing that's been burdening you.  As for me, I'm sometimes do-it-now and sometimes wait-for-it kind of person. On and off. But I'm mostly the keep-it-to-yourself kind. But one thing I'm definitely not is regretful. I never reflect any manner of remorse on my doing, whatsoever.  So the thing is... That I don't want to look back and wonder what if I would have done t...

Away. It is my favourite place to be. Away can sometimes be far enough from your current state, creating differences with it, while even saturating certain gorges. Away can be anywhere, and howsoever far you wish for it to be. It can even be the simple(or complex) expanse of the two verges of your bed, or even as far as the void between rapture and inferno. The more recurrent your stopovers at away, the better. You don't find your aways. You always know it deep down where it actually is, how the map to that place is stretched out. You have yourself at utter disposal there to what the world has got to offer to you. Remote from pandemonium. Such is the power of away that it makes you hallucinate it to be an abyss. An abyss you want to fall prey to, and not because it's enticing. But, because it's beautiful - not in it's own prospect, but the entirety of it. It'll show you only what you can feel. It's distant from the mere grasp of out our delectably fragile paws....

"You pretty nicely seem to have forgotten your manners. Do not raise your voice in front of me like that again!", another of Natasha's if-you're-younger-be-nice toned scream came out. The maid silently cleared the bed of the quilts she was setting for the night, and marched out of the room realising this was not going to be good. "I am not a child anymore, Nata. Stop telling all the time what to do.", Samantha screamed back. Natasha, dazed, stared at her little sister. Only that she wasn't little anymore. She had transformed into a woman, and a fierce one at that.  "Then stop acting like one.", Natasha countered.  Samantha kept glaring back with such fury that she was burning inside. Ashamed on talking in an unruly manner with her sister, she looked away, and she breathed down some sobs. Natasha, unable to see her sister cry, took a step towards her to comfort her. As she raised her hand in a gesture to stroke her face, Samantha retreated...

Nature is a wonderful cure. However upset you might grow one day, there's nothing about nature that'll not make you happy. I remember feeling low each time as a kid when I would be unable to create an inspiration for myself to write anything. And at the best and worst of times, nature was always there at the disposal. Get out in the night, walk on the dewy weeds, take in the light breeze dancing through your hair, listen to the fireflies hum and sway on that swing you spent your childhood on. There is nothing that can be solved in the world with those few minutes of serenity.  Happily, Ak.

You know what is the worst thing in the world? Habit. Habits are stubborn. They never listen to the Best of you. They're dangerous; as dangerous as equally enticing. It's hard attaining a new habit, but even harder letting go of the need to feed your life off of it. I've seen people devastating themselves because of things/people they've grown habitual of. And for all we know, it's not exactly the next best prettiest sight after a clear night sky. One thing I'd promised myself was that no matter how much it might ever hurt me, I'll be with a person because I would want to be, and not because I'm habitual of him. And through the course of having our first conversation to becoming friends to becoming really close friends to becoming really close and finally to getting almost together, I'd find something new about you everyday. Something new, that would give me perfectly new ways to figure you out everyday. I wouldn't exactly claim to be lonely pri...

The previous parts are  here . "You do know who and where he is, don't you?" "Yes." **** She drove recklessly through dense rain cascading the windshield. The cooled interiors of the car crashed against wet screen and fogged her vision. Smirking, she changed the setting to relieve of the fog. She felt like the glass which was clouded to see clearly at what was because of a dishonest family history and her own stupid judgement. For a moment she wished she hadn't touched Walda's diary. For a moment she wished she hadn't gotten herself into this mess. But she would have been unfair to herself and her father had she chosen to flout the affair. And she was right on the track to know he truth. For her father's sake, and more than that, her sake. **** "Maya, ya ullah, you have to throw this stupid idea at once out of your mind, child. If it has shaken you so much, imagine what would happen the the old chap with his grandda...

We all talk of love in manners only we understand. Or, expect a certain somebody to understand. I'm not a fan of expressions. Even a knowing look does it for me. I'd misconstrued the value of expressions with someone you love, or as they say. I've never been much for saying. Talking, yes, but not saying. Talking can take you everywhere. But it is only when you say, you express. Wrong pick. [Note to self: Never say to people you even think might interpret you in the least possible manner.] But withholding myself from saying had gotten me into a problem right about a couple of times. Lesson learnt. So, what do you do the next time around? You say. And you end up saying a lot. And said so much that you literally map out your entire self in front of them. And you can see reciprocations flying through the thick wind, fighting the cables, right through to your inbox. And for once you're glad you decided to do otherwise than earlier. And you're happy for once; even people...

And the tender breeze aggravated,  To blend into the storm that she was, each night, To show her the tender affection that was, Bestowed on her by them, when no one else did, Increasing their pace, as they moved over, Her honey skin, overcoming each obstacle rising, Witnessing the effect they had on her, Sifting their glory through her locks, Reciting the song that she could only feel, And the tender breeze that knew her. And the grass stood up, Like the very goosebumps on her skin, Tickling her foot, as she walked, Her calves as she sat, and, Her shoulders as she lay on them, like, They were her own, and she was all theirs, The yellowing clovers, blanketing her, Against the tiniest grains of dust,  That stabbed her delicate casing, Like cruelty against goodness, and as, The little red ladies crawled over her hand, Gifting her the sensations of togetherness, of her life, And the ground that always comforted her. And the stars shone brighter, As she ey...