The truth about living

There were symphonies screaming about how people's journeys were destined to continue side by side but I guess life decided not to listen to music that day and fate was a very weighty word to throw around. Because not every story that was filled with strife must be eventually crowned with happiness. Some stories end in tragedies and others just do; abruptly leaving so much void and questions unanswered. And you know what is worse than dealing with loss? It’s not that their heart stopped beating, but it’s that your heart still does and you start blaming yourself a million times for it -Call it survivor’s guilt or whatever…..I don’t care. You weren’t prepared to deal with such loss. You were never taught how to look into your friend’s eyes and see anguish beneath those false smiles he is improvising to cover up the fact he is still in deep seated, unrelenting pain. They tell you wounds heal and scars fade over time but how can they when you are never really the same. You try to lear...

I hope none of you, guys ever fall in love. I hope books never tell your stories together or people never remember your names while looking at the constellations of the stars that shine so vividly in the moonlit sky of the darkest of nights. I hope you spend the rest of your lives unloved and unfriended. I hope you never find that one person who makes you feel whole and keeps you always in check. I hope you fight your demons alone and treat your own wounds. I hope there are no words to describe your farewells. I hope nobody finds their 'happily ever after'. I hope you never hurt anybody or get hurt. I hope every new chapter of your existence starts with you and you only. I hope you don't have to stop and underline the words: love and loss when you scurry through the pages of your old diaries. You don’t know how hard it is to be tormented by the unrequited love you gave someone. You wake up every single morning feeling dead cold and all you can think of is that 'someone...

I used to call my friends delusional when they grew affection for people I saw were only a potential ache to the mind and the heart or when they called a bunch of shitty people the cool guys. It felt weird the fisrt time I learnt that the girl acting so damn egoistic and entitled is actually nice or the one who is funny and sarcastic, turns out to be a bookworm.....The big dude with the frowny face who made me burst into laughter, that one person with the ugly personality who has a dark past or the one who is visibly quiet but filled with so much chaos. To meet new people is to handle them your book. Never do they know that the book is missing a few pages which makes it easy to misinterpret self-worth as arrogance or the purest act of kindness as affectation. You can't read a story without knowing what the characters have gone through to reach that point in time and place. I am not the first person or the last to be troubled by the human nature. But one thing I know for sure is t...

I'm starting to think that people usually perceive me as a writer and I remember saying when I first started writing that I don't want to be looked at as such. It's a responsibility I am not willing to take. I only write for my own self-amusement and relief and that doesn't qualify me for anything other than being a friendly neighbourhood thought-giver. Some scripts aren't so personal that I choose to share them with the world. Others are just better kept unsaid.

I may look like a guy who does not talk much but my hubristic subconscious mind wants to believe I have answers for everything. A friend once offered me a question; ”what’s your inspiration?“. I mean that’s an easy one. I could have told him that I want to be a physicist like Albert Einstein, an artist like Edvard Munch or leonardo da Vinci, a great sportsman like Muhammad Ali, a writer like J. k. Rowling and the list went on and on before I realised I am already attending at a medical school. I froze for a few moments in silence while my head drowned in the loud noise that lingered around us then I looked him in the eyes and gave him a hollow answer that I knew would satisfy his uncertain curiosity. I succumbed to the agitating thoughts that flow into my head in every inexplicable way and that question echoed in a voice so deep that makes Morgan freeman’s voice sounds like baby Groot’s. I knew I cannot be any of these. I don’t have the potentials to be an expression of divine. So, wh...

I still remember the day I received my first anonymous hate comment. I remember how the words meant absolutely nothing to me. But what kept me insomnic that night was the troubling thoughts of the fact that I had to wake up the next morning, dress up and go to college where I would meet that person disguised in his deceitful looks and fake smiles. It’s easy to imagine a world so free that you can say anything to anyone whether it’s a compliment or an insult. A place where you can send a secret message to a friend or a letter to a lover with all the kisses and forever’s. I was so nieve to think that anonymous means that you eliminate all barriers and limitations; social , mental, physical, intellectual, spiritual, moral …. even lingual. But a free world comes with all kinds of responsibilities because words can have meanings outside their literal cloak we force them into. Regardless of the fact that now I may be more open to any type of judgement, I am really appreciative to anybody ...

I  understand that life is not a wish granting factory. But sometimes pouring your heart out into a few words is the only thing that keeps you sane. This is one of my 'I am feeling down' wishes: I wish I could meet new people, make new friends. I am not saying I hate my old ones, I just wanna do these whole friendships all over again. I remember my junior year at college, I used to hang out with several squads of people; different bubbles. I used to make assumptions about them and imagine what their background may have looked like. Everyone had a new story to tell. There wasn't an image of me in their heads I should live up to or that awkward situation I wish I could have changed.  Now, I live a double life, forever walking two paths; the one that was chosen for me in people's minds and the one I could not take. My feet walk the path they have chosen, my soul wanders the road not taken, and my heart....my heart is forever torn between the two, my mind is weary and I am...

You know, the worst part about having commitment issues is not that you always feel disconnected when it comes to maintaining a long term relationship. It is not that you care less or hold your emotions for fear of getting hurt. In fact, It is the irony of being so anchored not to people but to things. We fear change so much that we became imprisoned by our own past. And inside that cell with the peeled paint and the writings we have left all over the walls, we are compelled to make it home, to pretend that life doesn't exist beyond the bars.  Like I remember the other day when my sister lost my pen and she bought me a new one; the same color, type and everything. I became so angry and frustrated and everybody blamed me for it. Because for me, It was not just a stupid little pen. That pen held memories; every diary, every smile, every mental breakdown, every panic attack I had for the past 3 or 4 months of my life. For better or worse, It was part of me that cannot be replaced by ...