Category Archives: Of Random Thoughts

A letter to nobody: Revel in her perfect imperfections

Dearest Nobody!

Let me be very honest about it and let me say it all loud and clear!

You defy your feelings. You deny your love. You hoodwink yourself let alone the entire universe. And it is rather alarming.

You are half dead and it pains me. You live but you are living in denial. And I find it cringeworthy.

You keep trying to find an escape. In vain. From yourself. From every object around you.

From everything that has life. From everything that lacks it.

I know you love her. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be around. Pursuing her. Despite failing at it badly.

Because you are sure that she is a meaningful pursuit rather than just another disposable pleasure.

And you are afraid. For, she is a pursuit that never consummates. She won’t last forever.

You might as well, my dearest one, for her may just be a passing fancy.

Things change. Priorities change. Separation ensues. Distances grow.

Inevitability of change plays its part. Forgetfulness takes its toll.

But remember! Just because something doesn’t last forever doesn’t mean it loses it luster and diminishes its worth. And you totally understand that.

People part and they move on. That’s life. People come and people go, in and out of your life. That’s how it works. Because life goes on, you know, right?

Years lapse by. However, deep within, there is still a part of you that she cohabits.

Memories become your solace. And memories haunt too.

That is exactly when you understand the value of memory.

That is exactly when you understand the idea of immortality of events.

You understand eternity.

When in love, you are in no condition to distinguish between the right and wrong.

And that’s totally human.

And you find no flaws but only virtue.

You overlook all the scars and merely see perfection and grace.

She casts every ray of awareness upon your love for her, the moment you lay your eyes on her.

She casts spells over your mind even during the moments when she is out of sight.

She may not be the perfect personification of beauty. But she is beautiful nevertheless. In her own way.

Like you are saying now and you have said it before.

Nothing looks prettier than her pretty pointed nose and seductively smoggy eyes and sugary smiling lips and slender silvery neck.

And she is full of whims.

You never knew before meeting her that the whims could be as delightful and exciting too.

Imagine loving someone to the level that her caprice starts to sound cute and seem comely.

She is a wild creature.

And there is something beautiful about her wildness, right?

And she is weak. And she is vulnerable.

And she doesn’t even wear false pretensions of power and resilience.

And she is dangerously honest about her vulnerabilities.

And she is a free soul. Isn’t that lovely?

What floors you most is her completeness, and her craving for freedom and her longing for perfection.

Times have left its marks on her mind and scars over her soul.

Know that she was destroyed before.

She needs pampering. Treat her with care  and kindness and vigilance.

If she decides to be with you my dearest one, she will do it with all her entirety. Know this now and know this well.

Know that she will have to step over her fears and insecurities to be with you.

And fears don’t fade away in a wink of an eye.

They take time. Give her time.

If she loves you and respects you and entrusts you with an opportunity, treasure it with all your heart and soul.

Don’t ever let her down.

Know her. Read from the pages of her life.

Spend every moment with her as if it were your first. And last.

Be present. Physically and emotionally. And read.

She comes with an emotional baggage. Share it.

Strive to stimulate her thoughts and her emotions.

Plunge into her soul like you will dive into an ocean.

Know this that her love and existence will heal every part of you.

But remember this. Don’t try to fix her. Ever.

She doesn’t need fixing.

She is complete with all her pieces – which could, might as well, be scattered.

Just don’t try to mend her.

Don’t ever treat her like she were a broken woman.

Let her past scars and marks be!

You should just not be the one to inflict more upon her.

She would want to undress her soul in front of you and be utterly herself.

She wants you to look at her like every woman would want to be looked at!

Give her all of you so she could give you all of her.

Revel in her perfect imperfections.

Build her up. Uplift her.

And enjoy the art of reciprocation.

Talk to her about the stars and moon and sun and oceans and entire galaxies and all that is beautiful out there.

Treat her right. Respect her. Protect her.

Allow her the privilege of privacy. Trust her.

Appreciate her.

And last but not the least, give her all of you so she could give you all of her.

Revel in her perfect imperfections…

Yours truly

‘Someone out there’

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Damsel in distress

Serene environs.

Silence broken by the gushing water

falling down the rocks…

amidst green, secluded space,

stands the damsel in distress…

Unperturbed by the chaos in the vicinity,

un-amused by all the beauty at her doorsteps.

Fighting some futile tireless mind-battles,

over-stressed. Ungrateful.

Oblivious of all the gifts.


An Embrace That Lasts Not

Just like the waves embrace the sea-shore or river-bank but still embrace not. Some people share a similar bond. With its futile attempts, every single wave gets back to where it belongs, in vain. United in one moment and apart… in another.

The waves however never exhaust, or get bored. That’s some real stamina. Or absurd commitment.

In the form of tender and gentle ripples, they extend their arms for the company. Unwelcome always. And the river-bank as usual unmoved, adamant, heedless and callous.

The same waves however have the potential to build a current and with one splash crack riverbank open, and seep deeper into its existence.

The damage that the phenomenon inflicts is unparalleled. The self-inflicted annihilation lets waves lose identity and end up nowhere. And  the bank, cracked and shattered, never becomes the same.

Nobody does nobody any good. The whole fuss and craving and curiosity about everything is insane. Nonsensical.


Majestic Moon: Hide & Seek

The twilight, blue skies, densely dramatic woods, the mysteriously attractive and fascinating moon accompanied by a solitary star – an apparently insignificant and tiny, barely visible but unfailing, lifelong partner.

In short, when the day meets night, outcome is an absolute beauty.

A little later, there was this moment outdoors; the mortal sight could relish the eternal sight of the full moon reliving its grandiose ephemeral existence for yet another time.

The full moon at its zenith, leading itself to yet another anti-climax and eventually hiding.

A cloud-let, oblivious of the moon’s hide and seek penchant, had been trying to take it over nearby. Silly wasn’t it?

Though making it look even more stunning and immensely craved for, did nothing but added to her vanity a little more!


Pain ― a pesky part of being human

“Pain is a pesky part of being human.” ―  C. JoyBell C.

When you are in pain and you got no control over. Bear it! Live it! Sustain it!

Let everything out there disfigure you badly, torment you tremendously and scar you exceedingly. You got no control, and giving as well as you get is never an option. Some people are too prized to be paid back in the same coin. Since you are only because they are!

Left with any choice to overcome the ordeal? Nay! Bear it. Live it. Sustain it.

Let everybody out there take turns my love! One at a time!

Piercing through the wounds, pricking deeper into injuries, stabbing the hell out of every opening inside your mortal existence!

Let everything and everyone around crush you into nothingness.

For how humanly long can you numb your pain after all; for a while, a minute, a day, a week or more? The earlier the better! The longer you try and numb, the severer it does feel once you let go.

There is no delaying more.

Insensitivity has limits. You cannot pretend any longer that you don’t care. Imaginary anesthesia of pretentiousness ceases to act any effectively.

Pain takes over. Intense, acute and excruciatingly maddening.

The entities that cause hurt and inflict ghastly pain could quite possibly be the same ones who rendered happiness. A lot of exultation, ecstasy and jubilation.

Isn’t it quite harder when it comes to remembering happiness?

The pain lasts. It is highly harder to forget in contrast to happiness. The latter is very hard to remember, unfortunately.

Chiefly because pain leaves scars, happiness doesn’t leave any mark.

The scars stay forever; keep torturing and reminding and refreshing the painful experience and the person behind the agony.

You forgive but you can never forget.


I self-center you more than ever

“Missing someone, they say, is self-centered. I self-center you more than ever.” ― Saša Stanišić

Is there a remedy to attain immunity from missing someone? Do they even prescribe something of the sort? Find me that goddamn chemist, would you? Because I’d gladly take notes, start that darn drug right away.

Listening to every single advice and open to all words of wisdom of how to rid of someone you can’t stop thinking about and walk away from someone you just can’t stop loving.

I have got an idea. Why not let’s just tear each other apart, limb by limb? Haven’t we been doing this already? Then, how about stitching our scars later on and gaps and breeches together and ending up making everything into something that is awful to ever fix or mend or bring back to original?

And I would never be upset about it ever again. Aren’t we already done with getting excessively down and out every now and again?

How I keep telling myself that I have crossed the bridge and keep reminding myself that I have left nothing intact by burning everything behind.

The ashes however fly with the wind and blow back into where they belong. Right back to their home, and I always anticipate you showing up, in vain.

It’s so quiet without you around. And I hate you. Yes I hate you. For, I have decided to befriend the calm and composure of even the noisy environs. And I have opted to embrace the chaos and mayhem within.

I choose not to symbolize the definition of false hope. Hope, the whole world seems confused about whether to categorize it as life or the ultimate treacherous illusion. Ironic, right?

And I still keep pretending that everything will be alright. I will be alright. I don’t care. I hate you. And I don’t care, my love!

– Regretfully yours.

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. I swear. *wink wink*


I can’t rhyme anymore

“You’re the reason I can’t rhyme anymore.”

I always keep repeating to myself that I shall not write about you, not any more. But the moment I stop writing – I have realized – I stop writing at all, once and for all and I write none.

I write about you. I write about it every now and again, and keep it deep secretly under the closet.

I can’t understand whether I am too afraid to say this all in your face. And I can’t fathom, if that insinuates my cowardice or my excellence in keeping secrets.

I have started loving similes since I created them in bulk, unheard and unsaid; and a million metaphors that end up nowhere – unseen and unread.

Similes and metaphors describing your smoggy eyes and wavy hair, memories and distance – distant memories to be precise, delusional hopes and everything else cherished and regretted.

Certain tales are better off unspoken, and unheard. Or at least our parable is the one.

You always said it out rightly from the very outset. And you jazzed around your point of view straightforwardly. And you danced around the truth so convincingly so you never have to break anything – or anyone.

But even then – you’re definitely not the one to blame – my parts and pieces feel bent and broken, at the mercy of 24/7 harsh weather in my mind, and scattered to whatever the rains and storms happen to pass. I feel like a building standing without the firm base ready to fall apart without anything holding it up.

Missing someone, they say, is self-centered. I self-center you every single second of every single day.

Every single piece of fiction is a reminder of thee and I want you to read; every second note of poetry – merry or melancholy – makes me crave to read it aloud to you, out rightly ignoring the very fact that it could pretty much be a nuisance on thy part.

So what am I left with? Build a sand castle along the shore, transcribe everything I wish over the sand, graffiti my thoughts in invisible ink on every wall around, build the virtual bridge and forget what I left underneath.

Even if it means, I am the one drowning under there in waters which are dry and lifeless enough not even capable of an absolute kill.

Anyway, all that is happening is for your good. You don’t have to watch me fall apart, and I don’t have to let you hold me together. And I am not falling apart either. So you don’t have to hold us together.

But I wish you would. Though, it’s a lot better that you aren’t. And it’s a lot better that you won’t, and very importantly for your own good.