Monthly Archives: November 2015

From a Lover’s Diary -“I only write about you”

I like dark more than you love her but I love you more than I like the dark. I don’t know how long I will write about you but till that end I will only write about you with or without choice.
I am a very sad sick person who only write about anxieties, depression, accidents and on sad topics like ‘you’. And I am somebody who doesn’t even know myself, I’ve no idea. Tonight I felt like crying but I didn’t see any reason that would make me so, I didnot cry but I wish I had.
I am sorry for praying to God to take you away.
I feel like my time is over but I’ve seen those dead flowers amidst the living’s and I see why its not sad to die, to not mourn about your pain and shred when its time, and to happily fall knowing that you have to end it, someday.
I sit here by my window, a pen dangling from my mouth, consciously aware of the world that is coated under the night, merry making with the idea that I can see nothing, and its okay. Because all I want to do is not move and write unhesitatingly, constantly and unmoved by any boulders, all my life. I want to write like not a writer but myself, to write like nobody, to write like to put fire and ice together, to write like to throw words fearlessly up on the ceiling and catch it on the throat, to write like fishing during a rainstorm, to write like to cry like a kid when you ignore me, to write not like to see happy faces but looking under that smile, to write like to know that love and hate are two powerful feelings that to nobody comes easy, and to write like to be ready for death whenever it has to come and, that is when I will put my pen down and rest for a while.
And in like every yesterday, today too I will think about hating you forever for now until tomorrow. Sadly, I think I am never gonna love anybody like this again and worst, I find myself believing it everyday and which absolutely does not mean that I need you because its not somebody, its me, stupid.


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Posted by on November 28, 2015 in random thoughts


From a Lover’s Diary -“Dream “

You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of theday when we could be together. You truly could not imagine how hard this is for me. I’ve longed to be with you for years, but never really had the guts to do anything about it. That was until you actually approached me, and Baby, from then on I have been in love – not a crush, not puppy love, but truly, honest-to-God, love. The kind of love that somehow transforms you from one of those people who think that everyone else gets everything, to one of those people who have actually got everything. Honey, I guess what I’m saying is that before you, it seemed that I had nothing, and now I feel I have it all. And it is all due to you, and you alone. Well, I should probably say that I love you and.miss you and that this has got to be harder than
anything that I have ever done, being this close to you but yet so far away


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Posted by on November 24, 2015 in love



Love Relished With Ink

Ever felt irritated of everything around you? Ever wanted to just be away from the world and to live just in your own built place of memories?
Ever wanted to lock yourself there and never come back? Ever wanted darkness?
Well, the things you have at present is known as freedom for some wanderering souls.
No, by freedom I don’t mean the permission of doing all the illegal things or freedom from the never ending questions of your parents. Freedom has different meaning for everybody.
For some its FREEDOM, freedom from the cage. Freedom for some is the longing of watching the sunrise, its walking by the sea under the city of stars and it is PEACE, peace of soul. Freedom for some is just a dream, its a wish of breaking out the cage someday and fly, fly high to conquer the mysteries of sky. It is the never…

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Posted by on November 21, 2015 in love


From Love’s Diary -“Words to her “

I’ve been shoving this away for a long time now. The only way I make things real in my head is when I write about whatever has happened, and I refused to let go of you because how could I accept that you have left me? You never did. When I kicked you, when I pulled your tail, when I whacked your snout in an effort to make you leave the room or at least move away from me, you never did. And now, when you’re gone, I’m the one pulling your memory closer to me, because you were, and you are a part of me.

One of the most important people in my life told me something that hit only now. You’re not here now and you won’t be here again. But the memories I have of you, with you, are mine. They are bequeaths you left me, and no one can possibly take them away from me. That was the beauty of your existence too. By acknowledging me as your mistress and by giving me all your loyalty, love, affection and care, you had made yourself irreplaceable. You had made yourself one of the few points of gravity that kept me grounded.

You had such human eyes. I wouldn’t call them smart because you were, well, daft. But human eyes. Kind eyes. A lot of people questioned why, exactly, I acted like I did when I lost you; ‘Just a dog’, ‘you can buy another puppy’, and my personal favourite, ‘you can only feel for non-humans, can’t you?’. But what these people don’t realize is that you weren’t just a dog to me. You came to me during a phase in my life where I didn’t know if I was still human. I was a monster with an abject lack of empathy. You taught me so much.

You taught me to let go of grudges. To enjoy little things. To appreciate routine. To love unconditionally. To show love artlessly. To give all of myself. To demand love that I deserve. To want someone’s smile enough to make a fool of myself to extract it. To accept new people, but be wary enough to protect myself. You taught me how to be a better person and you taught me how to love. Funnily, most of the humanity I exhibit, I learned from a dog. I’m thankful for that, because people would have taught me with words. You, however, taught me by example and that’s why the lessons have stuck with me.

I’m going to have dogs after you. I had dogs before you. Some day, you’ll be a part of the data I’ll transfer from machine to machine, struggling to keep my youth alive through digital reminiscence. But there will be things I won’t forget. I won’t forget the month of research it took to narrow down on you, the first visit to the pet store as we searched for a beagle, the first time we met you, at 9pm, when you, a tiny, overfed, waddling puppy decided to choose us. The look on mom’s face when you went ahead brazenly, as though driven by an inherent instinct, and curled up into a ball on her feet. The first time you entered your new home, in a blue polythene bag, a tiny head poking out, almost too adorable to be real.

The most telling sign of you being my dog was the dog trainer’s reaction to you. He was a professional, and he gave up on you in a week, and all he said was ‘let him be, he’ll learn what he needs to, himself.’ There was a certain camaraderie you and I shared as the troublemakers of the house. And that’s what I’ll miss. In a house full of people with focus, determination and an innate sense of right and wrong, we were always mildly left of center. Our moral compasses, although aligned with each other, were slightly skewed from everyone else’s. Maybe the fact that you were too human for your own good, and I was, and am, not human enough, developed into a solidarity that I wouldn’t have given up for the world.

There were days you were my only friend, and you truly were good company. Not many friends stay when you push them away, but you did. You always did. You stayed with me when I actively tried to shoo you away. That was possibly the most important lesson you taught me; that I’m worthy and capable of loving and being loved. I’m still learning, and there are people I wish I could have introduced you to, because they’re showing me the truth behind your lessons. I think you would’ve liked them.

I have so many regrets, in retrospect. That one night when I could’ve taken you for a walk but I was too tired to, and let the maid take you. The days when I was cranky and didn’t play with you even though that was, sometimes, the only thing that could make things okay. The days when I was at the vet’s with you and instead of comforting you, I was too absorbed in a novel. The times I didn’t love you as much as you deserved to be loved, and the times when I didn’t do your simple love justice. I know it’s too late for platitudes, but I truly did think I could have loved you tomorrow. And now, suddenly, tomorrow doesn’t exist.

I need you to promise me a few things. I need to know you’ll be okay. I know you’re loving all this attention, wherever you are. You need to promise to be good. Don’t bite people with red umbrellas. Don’t fall into ponds. Don’t cry when I come home late. Don’t beg for chicken when someone’s cooking. Don’t make a fool of yourself for papaya. Don’t jump onto sofas and challenge Mom to retaliate. Don’t poke your nose into the kitchen and whine for raw vegetables. Don’t drag your leash into mud. Don’t run away when someone tries to bathe you. Don’t do that retarded beagle water dance.

I loved you, you little goof. I still love you. You took with you a small part of me. In return, you gave me limitless amounts of love and a pool of memories I can dip into in times of dire need because your unpretentious, uncomplicated love translated into fortitude and support. It translated into an aim; An aim to love as well as you have loved m

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Posted by on November 18, 2015 in love, lover's diary


The Writer

I walk into my office, closing the door behind me. It’s 9:00 PM. Well, 9:03 PM. I sit down at my desk and open my laptop, placing a tall glass of diet cola on the mouse pad next to the computer as a make-shift coaster. Three ice cubes float in the bubbling blackness. I’ve found two ice cubes won’t make your beverage cold quickly enough, while four ice cubes will overpower it — water it down. You can’t have that. It’s got to be three ice cubes.

I open up my word processor to a new document. I’ve got to write something — this blank rectangular expanse has haunted me for long enough. I type some gibberish, then delete it. What do I want to write? I remember reading somewhere you’re supposed to write what you like.

I minimize the page and open the Internet. No new emails. I could watch porn for a bit. I’ve always preferred the “amateur” videos because the people in them resemble actual people. You know, the guy’s a little overweight, and the girl’s got excessive arm hair, or a weird mole. He mounts her from behind, sweating profusely. Their bodies jiggle for ten or fifteen minutes. There’s no eye contact, but you can tell they’re in love. The TV’s on. The guy looks up at it sporadically. Maybe makes a face at the cell phone he’s filming his lovemaking on. The picture quality is low, and the audio is pretty tinny, but you can usually make it out all right. I saw this one video of a guy and a girl getting it on and some other dude was there filming it. You could tell it was an amateur video because she was kind of weird-looking. But, like, did he ask his buddy to come back to the motel with this chick he picked up and film them fucking?

No, I can’t get behind all that glossy, glamourous, professional porn. There’s too much Botox and plastic surgery. They look too good. And it’s all fake, too. These people have sex for a living. Watching them go at it, it just feels empty. They’re not really into it. And I don’t know if seeing guys with twelve-packs and ten inch dicks invokes a certain inferiority complex in me or what it is, but I know I just don’t care for it.

Okay. Back to the writing. Now, what do I like to write? I like action movies, so… how about… a serial killer. No, a contract killer. So it’s a serial, contract killer who… but there has to be some sort of conflict. Okay, a serial contract killer who falls in love with… but there needs to be something that makes it unique. Something unique that sets it apart. So how about he… or she?… she falls in love with…

I wonder if I have any new messages on Plenty of Fish. Maybe that cute brown-haired punjabi girl  responded to me.

No, she hasn’t. Well, when did I send the message? Yesterday night? Let’s see when she was last online…

Today, at 4:13 PM.


Well, maybe she just didn’t notice it.

Yeah. That’s it.

Maybe the target falls in love with the killer. Maybe they meet early on and they hit it off or something at some swanky soirée. And then… she’s hired to kill him. Or her. Yeah, that could be interesting: a lesbian contract killer. Never seen that before. But she’s got to be hot. Yeah. Not like the monster Cameron Diaz played in that movie… Monster. But who hires her? Her husband? Yeah, that might work. But would he kill her for being a lesbo? Or maybe… she stole something from him. Some money. Or she found out he’s a criminal, and she’s gonna squeal.

A romatic Luv story  is interesting. Especially when they are people who just want to read about romance only
But seriously, why would that cute Punjabi girl not respond to my message? Her profile did say “msg me :)”, after all. Her profile said her favourite book is 50 shades of grey . I think she meant the movie. I wrote “haha ya brad pitt is the shiiit”. I don’t know. I never know what to write in those messages. I always feel obligated to say something about their profile so they know I didn’t just look at their pictures.

I’m good-looking, aren’t I? I’ve had girlfriends. I’ve had sex a bunch of times. I haven’t had sex in a while, but… okay, so I don’t have a six-pack, but I go to the gym. I just get so anxious with all those muscly dudes walking around. Maybe I should get a private trainer.

I need more diet cola. No, wait — no more soda. Maybe all that aspartame is messing with my head. Anyway. Back to the contract killer. How many pages do I have? Six. Well, the average movie is about a hundred minutes, and if one page equals one minute in screen time, I’m only… oh look, I got a new email.

divi  has responded to your message.

“not my type, sorry”


Well, whatever. 50 Shades of grey is a stupid movie anyway.

Back to the script. I need a title. Every good movie has a good title. How about The lover killer ? No, that’s too risky the title….will think again .some day and will write


Posted by on November 9, 2015 in short write up



Question everything, including your beliefs. When I’m having one of those days where I get stressed out and things seem unfair, I always find myself asking “are my thoughts about this actually correct?” I find that in any circumstance, there are several ways to interpret events. I won’t lie and say there is always a positive. Sometimes there isn’t. But there is often a neutral version, more of a “ok, this happened, now what?” It causes me to look for solutions and how to best manage my present situation rather than waste my precious energy fuming about it. I can tell so clearly now when I’m falling down that rabbit hole of negative stress. It feels horrible. I feel hopeless and on the verge of tears (unfortunately this is most often at work!) This type of stress is not healthy. But there IS a form of stress that is healthy, and it’s the type that stimulates your mental and physical resources to not just get through a situation, but to prosper from it, to develop skills that you can use later. To open to a different perspective you might not have considered before. All you have to do is question your own beliefs, to not take on faith that what your mind tells you is true. Not everything you think about the world is even your own idea; you were taught how to think the things you do. Look at those thoughts. If they aren’t helping to uplift you during times of stress and darkness, they aren’t serving you.



Posted by on November 6, 2015 in random thoughts


From a Lover’s Diary- ” Bas Ho Gaya “

Honestly , I fell in love with you moment we started talking. It
takes guts to call up girl  you have met like 7 hours ago and
you are madly in love with. But Oh Man! The whole idea of just
silent stalking was killing me inside. Your voice was so
enchanting and it just blew my mind. With you , I really don’t
have to pretend to be Free or Busy. Because When I’m free we
are talking and when we are busy , well priorities do matter a
lot. You always make me feel special with your cute
Smile . Be it Your  smile or your  big eyes , and my
raunchy comments on you and using different means for
irritating you. The virtual hugs and kisses are so cute and
worst part about whole long distance relation is that I really
can’t propose you on my knees. I’m just sitting here , thinking
about you. And thinking about different ways of expressing my
feels. I’m not exactly romantic person but I can sum up whole
thing as :-

No matter wherever you are right now.
In my heart you are with me doesn’t matter how.
Your smile makes me my day.
Your cheesy comments and raunchy statements
Your die heart romantic behaviour
It makes me feel special
Like only one in world
And makes me just bury myself in your arms
And kiss you forever , Deep and melting one.
Which will something more than touch of lips.
Hearts maybe.
And I can’t be your friend anymore.
Take it to another level.
Make me your boyfiend…
Please ?

 ANd what she Said :

I will be like perfect wife experimenting with different dishes all the time and then force you to eat it and spend hours indiscussing how many kids I want or which car. I’m ready to behave like girlfriend – Make out with you in dressing room ,wear your shirt after nasty sex , Try flirting with other guys just to make you jealous. And there are going to be days when you will buy me pads , eat pizzas with me because I burned the dish , take me home after drinking , wash my clothes ,clean my puke , go and meet doctor with me , be present at my convocation , Share a kiss at 31st Dec 11:59. There willbe days when we will be angry and we won’t talk. Probably will be angry but we should remember we don’t have anyother option. It is going to be just us. There are going to be crazy days like Diwali on Holi and maybe Eid on Carva Chauth. If I will fast then you will fast too. Get ready to be in craziest and longest relationship of your life with craziest girl who will fuck up your whole world and probably eat your whole money . Buy yourself DSLR to keep capturing my photographs and be set to travel. I’m totally in love with you !

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Posted by on November 5, 2015 in lover's diary

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