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Remember when we were half as tall as we are, when we said what we thought and meant it?

Boy, are those days over. Now, every sentence uttered is riddled with ulterior meanings and innuendo; truth never betrayed to the subject. Never ones are we to serve the churning soups inside our heads. The face isn’t really the index of the mind (at least the mouth isn’t).

No, we care too much about our made-up ‘image’ and ‘prestige’ and ‘integrity’ to share what we think in an honest manner. It’s like clothing, in a way. We want to wear what everyone else is wearing. Whatever is ‘in’. Such is the will to blend in that it masks (if not replaces) our actual desires.

With every interaction, the mind makes some adjustments to the equation and its variables. To speak up (introverts), to shut up (extroverts, or in some cases, introverts trying to be normal), to be more direct, to beat about more.

Ugh. People are so difficult. Communication, one of the basic constructs of life and civilisation, is such a confounding thing, isn’t it?

It goes to justify the burning desire to marry our beds and stay on them for years on end.



Thinking back to days past

Wishing to rewrite the tale

Hoping to relieve the pain

Trying to grab the reins

But in thinking

And wishing

And hoping

And trying

One forgets that pain is natural

That sorrow is black to the white

That regret is part of the tale.


“What do you want in life?”

“Where do you see yourself in 10 years?”

“What do you want to achieve?”

“What is your goal?”

Silly questions encountered far too often. 

Of course, one has to prepare oneself for the future, but that doesn’t necessarily warrant having a ‘goal’ or a final point one must reach. 
I don’t have a goal; doesn’t mean I’m aimless. I shall continue to do whatever I like doing. I’m in control of my life. 

Whatever happened to YOLO and living in the present?

Who are you?

It is a question a lot of people, including yourself, ask you. What do you say?

Your name. Where you’re from. What you’ve studied. Where you work. And so on. 

While this might suffice as an answer to the average nature of said question, none of it is explanatory of your core identity. I.e., your roots- who you are.

Seldom, for short moments of time, you feel like you belong. To the people around you. To the place where you are. To the world. To yourself.

It has nothing to do with where you are from, what religion you follow or what your parents do. It is much more abstract than that. Much less explainable. 

It is when you are in touch with your roots.

It is when you are you. 

When you are truly fulfilled in every sense. 


“Time heals” I was told.

No it doesn’t. It may provide temporary distractions. But it will never have you forget what you loved and lost. 

Maybe you’re not meant to. Maybe you’re supposed to remember. 

After all, memories of them are what you have left. 

Painful, aren’t they?

Just wake me up when it’s all over. 


Two friends talking to each other. 

The replies are usually late- they both have lives, after all.

But each conversation has a ‘sorry’ and a ‘thank you’ tagging along. Does it mean they are not really very close?

No. Quite the opposite. They care too much about bothering one another. But why?

Maybe life is simple. Maybe we are all just paying too much attention to the littlest things. 

Maybe we’re just overthinking it.