E for Ephemeral

Accepting the fact that there are millions of galaxies,

Holding up the cosmos,

I ponder,

Are we really that important?


Out of 7 billion people in the world,

Who is gonna know me?

Who is gonna mourn for me?

Does it really matter?


Who are we?

Who lead the world like it’s gonna remember us;

We remain ignorant of the fact that:

Our footsteps will be washed away by Waves of Time.


We remain ignorant of the fact,

That all moments are transient.

That life is all about those ephemeral moments;

Those moments that we attempt to transform into eternal memories.


Hoping, against hope, that:

They remain buried forever in our memory.

Not realizing that life is an hourglass,

And we are helpless in its Game of Cruelty.


Life’s just an illusion.

Pretending to be perpetual,

While with an inevitable end,

We are all just: ephemeral.

How does “F for Façade” sound? Continue reading “E for Ephemeral”


D for Diary

Alright, so this is an excerpt from my diary. 

*crossed fingers* Hope you like it. 

Afraid of biased judgement, 

She adorned a veil of exuberance. 

For she couldn’t tell the world, 

What lay hidden underneath. 
People thought of her as, 

The girl who was “always sarcastic”. 

Missed out the moments, 

When she was out gazing up at the galaxies. 
For her, the night sky was a mirror. 

Dark as the sky, 

Her soul held immaculate speckles of stars. 

Alas! Much to her oblivion!
But, as the day came with the rising sun 

She realised;

The Masked Sun she wore, 

Blinded the people. 

Misted their thoughts. 
And they couldn’t see who she really was. 
What she really was, though, 

Was still hidden from her. 

Cos thoughts of her identity, 

Were coiled around her mind, likea noose. 

Suffocating her. 

And all she wanted to do was:

Let it all out. 
Long ago, she realised that she had accepted, 

Who she really was. 

She was afraid that the society wouldn’t. 

For even she feared:


C for Childhood

Sitting on my window sill,

Listening to the wind chime’s sweet harmony,

Gazing out into the horizon,

I’m haunted by my midnight melancholy,

Looking up at the blanket of stars,

I wonder when did I grow up?

How did time pass so quickly?

When did I leave my childhood behind?

Seems as if I can no longer catch up with my long-lost innocence.

I realize that I have driven far past the stage where school was on top of my worries list;

School has been replaced by a mask of other worries,

That takes pride in possessing my thoughts.

Drowning myself in my 3 AM thoughts it hits me,

That the rain will no longer mean the same to me.

Earlier, rain used to be a medium of joy;

Now it is just a veil for my tears.

Now all I can do is sigh with exasperation.

And regret what I missed out on,

Seems as if that shooting star is not capable of bringing back my childhood.

I just wish it could.

I just . . wish.


D for Diary? Sounds good?



B for Boys 

So I decided to let some bits of my personal life out there

First of all,  I have a non-existent love life. For the sake of God , I have absolutely no admirers(at least none I know of). And from my side?

Let’s just say, that feelings from my side have fucked me up. In the worst way possible.

Let’s just talk about my crushes. my first one was just a close friend, which wasn’t even a crush.

After that, owing to my mood swings I had frequent crushes on ANY good looking guys I laid my eyes on.  Even if it was just a guy in the same grocery shop as mine at that time.

After that, I developed a crush on a fellow classmate and I just FANTASIZED about him the whole year. And guess what,  in the spur of the moment, I decided to confess my feelings to him. And I did.

Let’s just say that things weren’t the same afterwards. First of all, rumours went around the school that I was dating him. So we stopped talking. It doesn’t stop at that. Afterwards he asked for my help because he wanted to propose to my friend. And yup I did(like the fool I am). And since then things aren’t awkward between us but we talk regularly and he knows some of my darkest secrets.

And now I arrive at the present.

At the present I have a hopeless crush on a guy who is FOUR YEARS OLDER than me.  FOUR YEARS OLDER. I mean, I call him bhaiya and I’m fantasizing about dating him.  And the fact that he is INCREDIBLY CUTE doesn’t help in me getting over him.

I’m literally drooling over him. And above that, we are FRIENDS. That doesn’t help me when I’m trying to maintain distance from him. And guess what?  A mutual friend of mine and that guy found out about my feelings for him. And I just hope that he doesn’t let it slip from his mouth or else. . I’ll want to bury myself in a hole and just lie there for the rest of eternity.

That’s it. I’m really sorry if I bored you with this talk. But I’m not over.

And now I’ll talk about my choices in men.

I’ve learnt that book lovers have impossibly high hopes of what they want in a partner.

Same applies for me.

I need a cutie, hottie, and a guy who can be sarcastic at the right time,  amd comforting at the right time.

And I have low hopes of meeting such guys.

But I just hope that I do find someone who loves me and whom I love back immensely. A guy who’ll make me realize what love is.

Until then. . .

C for Childhood? ? 

A for Alive

Alive has a new-found meaning for me

Earlier it used to be bounded within the category of surviving.

Gradually, with hindsight, I realized it’s more than just living. It is . . . . .living. It’s not just existing, it is living as if it your last day, as if you have no worry in the world. As if. . . zindagi n milegi dobara.

Now, I feel. . . kind of. . . lonely. Not just that. I feel. . .tired. And no, it doesn’t stop at that. I feel. . depressed. Everyone I know(mostly), is like “You are so funny”,”You are never serious”,”Always fooling around”. But the thing is they don’t know the real me. They don’t know that I have an identity ‘hiraeth’. Hell! They won’t even know the real meaning of hiraeth. But this feeling I have has helped me realize the meaning of alive. Being Alive is that feeling for me when I just. . . no longer feel lost.

When my thoughts cease.

When everything ceases.

When I just let my life beyond the boundaries of survival.

And now I promise myself to forever live while alive.

You can do nothing about the length of your life. But you can change its depth.


I’m waiting for more suggestions.

Ahoy! Come aboard!! 

Alright, so I have decided to post 26 posts. One for each letter of the alphabet. So I’d appreciate some prompts bit am np expert in writing on ANY topic. So plss cooperate and be patient. I’ll try my best to be of your interest and be regular.  I’ll start in a few days. 

A Book

I believe that we are all like books. Having the power to a capture a wanderer in the enchanting trap of our own words. Painting our lives. Spilling ourselves on these pages. I just turn out to be a closed one. Reluctant to spill myself. My soul is like a book that hasn’t been proofread. I have my own flaws and imperfections. Maybe a guy will come along and realuse I’m perfect without any editing. My soul has been spilt along the pages of my book and I’m afraid that I am just not interesting enough to capture the thoughts of a guy. I hope I’m wrong and that I’m good enough. I just hope.

P. S. I’m sorry but this post is just what I feel about nowadays. It might not be what you expect out of me but I think someone who feels the same way would understand what I mean on a deeper level.