My vision.

I have seen oceans millions of miles apart looking for a cue, so when God looks away, they can meet in the skies. How the only time they meet is when the sun burns the waters and makes them float up to the clouds.
I have seen ashes turn into the most beautiful flowers and back again just so these butterflies can get jealous.
I have seen these raindrops drowning the seas and lifting the grounds just so nature doesn’t feel so much divided by the races.
Doctors say that my vision has become weaker and I wonder if my vision lies in my heart.



I know exactly what awe looks like.
It is the exact size of my fist.
It gets obese way too fast and somewhat anorexic in not more than a second.
It beats itself up and bleeds more than 72 times a minute to keep somebody else alive.
It wears the wrong shade of red but blushes into scarlet on seeing a handsome face.
It cannot touch the places my fist can but it sure can teleport because I find it flirting
with everybody else
other than my own body.
And by the end of the day, it comes back to me to remind me that no matter the circumstances,
it will remind me of how I was very much alive
when the world thought I wasn’t.

– k.a (the heart)


When you get jealous, it’s as if the stars stopped shining because the sun got all the attention. The world revolves around the sun, sure, but at the end of the day, relies on the stars to fill the empty dark nights hovering upon the heads of the people like a nightmare cloud. I’ve heard that a person’s body goes through a series of reactions that produce heat. So if we combine all these exothermic activities of the bodies of the people in this world, can we create a sun from our own heat and light? Or can we make a world that’s more bright and cheerful than what we have ever come across? Can we make the raindrops split into seven different colours and let the morose sky admire this spectrum?

And if I were the sky, I would tell this world of over and over again that without it’s smile, the rainbow seems monochromatic.


Sound of silence.

And the solemn voice never gives up in a hope that one day it will be heard first amongst the lights shining all around us.

The sullen night sky appears to be whispering from miles above me in a voice I can’t quite hear. The light strikes the drenched earth first and the voice is lost amongst the various layers of air. Isn’t that why we seem to take actions long before our mouth can agree to what we are doing? And the solemn voice never gives up in a hope that one day it will be heard first amongst the lights shining all around us. The glow we give off will become times greater than what it was when we kept quiet. And the infinite skies will shake again finding something brighter than it’s thunder.



“I don’t know if love defines anti gravity

because I can float without a lifeboat to save me

or if it defines gravity,

because I’m grounded to the presence of you.”

“I don’t know if love defines anti gravity

because I can float without a lifeboat to save me

or if it defines gravity,

because I’m grounded to the presence of you.”

I can go on telling you about how your curves are beautiful and not a tad short of perfect. But when I talk about those curves, I want you to know that every scar that makes a depression on your flawless skin in beautiful, too. How it tells the world that you can show off how you bleed and still lead the way without second guessing yourself. I want you to know how those enchanted boulevards across the lonely streets have trees filled with cracks on their skin but not in a lifetime have they stopped giving us our life. Not once did they stop breathing out for once, not once did they stop giving us our breath.

And I want you to know that the pimples, the blisters, the burnt skin cells and every wound that you carry is yet another reminder of how a broken star fell upon my lonely self just to show me that I can get my life back too.

-k.a (self love)


You were born and the earth can’t stop spinning round and round and calling it a revolution, ever since.

Roses take all the attention of poets to dead thorns and most importantly, of lovers. I got to know today that tulips, that look a little like roses, bloom through the chilly winter nights of late December to the beautiful days of spring. They do not care if the delicate roses are the most beloved flowers of the lot, they do not stop blooming nonetheless and through the tirelessly harsh weather. And I don’t know how many falling stars you will need to make you realize that you are so much more than what the world tells you and how the sun doesn’t stop to blink at all when you open your window and peek at the dusty wind blowing through the shiny curls of your hair. I do not know if you can’t stop your head from spinning when you are worried but

I know, for a fact, that since you are here, the earth can’t stop spinning round and round in circles and calling it a revolution.



I was stuck with my studies and exams and everything so I kinda missed writing. Everytime I would think that I should write and I was getting great ideas but as I saw my books and ideas faded away. I am finished with my exams and I will write as often as I can.

I just have this for now.

You’ve got your heart racing through like nothing can stop it, your mind running in a loop. You cannot help but imagine the happy moments spent and wish they could come back. You’ve been thinking and thinking. The room’s dark, you’ve turned out the lights but the darkness doesn’t let the panic soothe to let you sleep instead you get scared of what you’ll see in your dreams. You try to relish what you have had. In the morning, you don’t feel like doing anything and at night, you feel crushed by the feelings that gather on your chest like a heavy weight. You don’t know what this is all about. You feel happy but at the same time you want to slam your head against the wall as hard as you can. You’ve tried the best you could but maybe it was never meant to be. Maybe you got enough chances but you didn’t take any.

Maybe you are guilty for making things worse for you but things can get better. In the wake of misery there’s still light reaching upon and caressing your forehead and in all the fog built up in your mind, there’s still hope shining and battling it’s way through. All broken things cannot be mended easily but some things are worth the wait. Maybe you can pacify all the anger that has been building inside you and bring yourself everything you ever wished to be happy. That will be the day when you will feel that the best things in life are always worth the wait.

Better days.

I know that I’m not as active on this blog as I once was, I am just trying to figure my life out. The past few days have been good but I’m cursing myself more in the meanwhile. I am stuck in studies and can’t find a way through.
Sometimes, you just feel useless as you are not able to do anything right to your existence or the world that you live in. You are not that great in something anymore you thought was your passion. You try to study but just can’t keep it in your mind. The words leave a feeling of pain and nauseousness. You are rejoicing the fact that the surroundings have been good to you but you didn’t return the favour back. Maybe being nice will get me nowhere but what in the world will? I made some new friends who can make my pain go away and I love them for that. I was never better off on my own, I needed people in everything that I did. In the time being, I’ve come across one more thing that I’m doing lately, not caring a tad about the haters. They are just jealous of your smile.
I’ve found that listening to the old music I loved has been a convalescent for my body. I have built good memories in the past few years with those songs. Sometimes they make me remember some friends I’ve lost, sometimes they tell me about the good times and maybe sometimes about the people or things that made them good. I’ve had the some of the best days of my life in these few days.
Writing has made my world better. I never thought that it will heal my wounds so fast and make me a new person. I am a very shy person and don’t open up to people easily just because I think that some won’t be nice to me or some would judge me. Writing has made this fear go away. I have learnt that I will have to collect the pieces of every emotion I go through and make a world as beautiful as it is in my dreams. I have learnt to cherish everything and everyone I’ve got.
Maybe some day the misery that I’ve still kept aside in the corner of my mind will permanently go away. Maybe there are some people in the world who think that I’m the world to them. Maybe there’s something in store every soul who has lost his/her ability to live or live happily. The world is only better if we make it better. Maybe writing will transform every disability I have. Maybe someday I’ll die a happy person.

Three day challenge. #day3

Hey people, it’s day three and the last day for this. The quotes I picked up today are

  • We were the ones
    Walking through hell,
    Walking out of it distorted,
    Broken and with our heads on fire.
    The ones who died a little each day
    And had to learn how to
    Deal with it.
    The deranged.
    The confused.
    The lost and the forgotten.
    We were the ones
    They would call mad
    We were the fallen.
    The one’s who didn’t sleep
    And still, would dream
    The ones no one understood
    We were sinking into
    Each other,
    And no one knew how to save us
    We were the ones
    Who learnt how to love.
  • We come and we go but none of us stay still enough to find the words we are meant to say.

These are two amazing quotes written by R.M. Drake. He never fails to give me life through his words. He has been one of the inspirations in me writing.

There you go, challenge completed.

It was good to share some of my favorite quotes with you all.