Cruising towards the rocky shore. Happy Independence Day, India. And while I love the feminist part,. About the colonial part,. Or more accurately, how others. Feel about my ways being. By people who are stringent. Of course, I do;.

Every time you refuse to acknowledge. In the hope that they. And call them gorgeous instead. Actually putting yourself on a pedestal. That they being who they are. In their shape and their form. For you not only to refuse to. You can call a fat person. It just feels that way.

A Peek into the Life of an Introvert. A constant battle of wanting to be alone but not wanting to be lonely. Helpless r e g r e t s. We disregard life each day we spend living it. With our somewhat functional elbows and knees,. We fail to fully understand the depth of this journey. I was told that my maternal grandfather had a brain stroke,. Which demoted him from being his own master. The way I do,.

Then, she spread her wings and soared. For The Emotionally Unsuccessful Beings. We desire vast amounts of things for different reasons. You will be very happy and it will fall apart and then you will be sad and then things would get be.

An Open Letter, If You May.

क कर तव यव म ढ. A letter to my Alma-mater. Enter your e-mail, and get notified whenever I post on this blog, yay! A size too small. Nothing ever seems to fit. Not those jeans you would have killed for. Not those dreams that play on repeat. And tell him about the time you tripped and fell into a drain. But like always, nothing fits.

To all warriors, I can live with white, with grey, but not with black. The fact that it absorbs everything, captures all, makes me feel so insecure. Oh Shakespeare, why torture time by calling it sluttish? Time gives momentary happiness, momentary pleasure, some space to feel all fragments of emotions, but darkness, darkness just steals everything, leaves us bereft of everything but pain and sufferings.