IMG_0191[1413]Overlooking Good because Good overlooked you is not an option; inflictions shan’t be transferred. Yes, bad does exist, but it shares the world with Good. Wait. If not now, you will surely gonna find Good sooner or later. Have patience. Breaking someone because somebody else broke you won’t fix anything. Let the good enter your life once again, give it a chance. This world isn’t that bad after all. Opposite things coexist and make wonderful pairs; light and dark, fire and water, woods and desert. They compliment each other and enhance diversity; Who doesn’t admire diversity, right? Let’s pretend everything is perfect, then everything would be. Wait. Introspect. Fuck the negativity. Smile.




Muse Unboxed


” You don’t resemble the old you.”

“Why the hell are you behaving so unusual today?”

“She is such an aggressive, stubborn ass.”

Everyone started firing those filthy question on me, which wounded my soul. Everyone failed at recognising my absent presence. I felt a ton of worry dragging me down into the bathroom floor on which I knelt. I cried… I cried my heart out. Not because they took me for what I am not, but because no one dared to ask me what had happened to me that has changed me. No one came to me. No one hugged me. None of them made an effort to listen to me. Everyone just judged me, tagged me, put me in categories.

I cried out silently, “come sit with me; hold my hand. Please. Understand. Because I am falling.” I have been keeping all those buried for a long time. I can’t hold it anymore. Tick-tock, tick-tock… the sound adding the background music to my loneliness. Everything near me seems gloomy, dull and filthy. Individuals around me, aren’t humans, they are merely flesh and bones and stock of other meaningless things. These moving bodies scare me the most. I am afraid. I am scared. I am living, but I don’t feel alive. I feel like I am drowning in an abysmal nothing. I love to draw and paint and to play with colours. Yes, I am really good at it. I can show you my art book. But… But, I am not the same anymore. Now, I can’t differentiate between the hues of blue. But now, I just sit blankly in front of this white sheet. I ponder, this doesn’t need to be smudged and tarnished with any colour. Maybe, this is my excuse for not coming up with any brilliant idea, like I used to have earlier. This colour tray disgusts me. Now, I desire to give out these brushes and crayons and all these worthless disgusting watercolours.

Believe me. Please, trust me, I am not obstinate. I am not an aggressive stubborn ass. No, I am not. My mama once said, “You are the sweetest daughter, my angel.” And… and believe me, she doesn’t lie. Mothers don’t lie, you know. I am sweet. I am a good person. Yes, very… good. You don’t believe, hmm? You can ask Zed, my doggo, my sweet little doggo. I love him and he loves me back. I play with him. I give him food on time. But, now, he annoys me. I have stopped liking him, I think. Can we give up liking someone after some time? Oh… yes… Yes, of course, we dismiss. If everyone can do this to me, why can’t I quit loving my dog?  This place, my friends, Zed, everything is supposed to be good and comforting. I know it from the fairy tale Dadi Maa narrated me last year. But everyone lies. Why is that white beautiful unicorn not coming to my rescue? Am I bad? My Dadi says, “You don’t choose a story, story chooses you.” But what if I want to become a poem instead of a story? This place is ridiculous. Here I feel alone in midst of a crowd. If I had known any cuss words I would have said all of it, every single of it. But, papa says it’s a bad habit and I am a good girl.

Breathing…. Breathing heavily… I want to sleep now. I haven’t slept for the last three days. I want to sleep. I want to dwell deeper into slumber. This sleep would mend everything. I must sleep now. Breathing… breathing softly…






Be someone who shares food with street dogs.
Be someone who holds the elevator door for a person.

Be someone who is not scared to initiate a conversation.

Be someone who counts twinkling stars instead of black clouds.

Be someone who helps a random person with weighty grocery bags.

Be someone who is strong enough to rise anew after every lost match.

Be someone who is not afraid to be chaotic, uncommon and imperfect.

Be someone who returns the borrowed book on time with a thank you note.

Be someone who captures and admires the candid moments of friends and family.

Be someone who empties their water bottle in a parched potted plant on a road side.

Be someone who is kind enough to put a grin on somebody’s face with small gestures.

Be someone who mends the spine of the library book and glues its pages before returning it.

And I am not challenging you to find someone with these traits. I am inviting you to be the one.




   you know what? this world is made up of each and every colour one could imagine. If any shade is taken away from this exquisitely painted masterpiece, the whole artwork would get disturbed. Anything and everything that confronts your eyesight is a blend of two or more or thousands of diverse colours mixed together. You, yourself is made up of a union of multiple colours. let it be there, don’t dare you to wipe off any colour from the palette. let’s appreciate the sheer beauty, let’s appreciate every colour, let’s accept it the way it is.