I take time to recognise the unresolved greedy side of people. When I meet someone, all I see is a person with a genuine smile, a contagious laugh, sparkling eyes, beautiful hair and soft speaking style. It's not a bad thing that I can't see through people for who they really might be. I believe it takes strength to look at a person without judgement for once.

Humans can be museum too,
Filled with history they can no longer touch.

And sometimes, sufferings are just
sufferings, they don't teach you any lessons, they don't contribute to any growth, they don't give you any patterns they just take away the parts of you that can no longer be renewed or regenerated, they just give you the wounds that cannot be healed, and the scars that cannot be concealed, they just prove to be the lost last battle of the candy crush saga that cannot be redeemed, no matter what.

Love is an art of finding oneself. And art is that medium where you hide with all the love...which you could never express or share or understand.If love brings us together, then art that comes out of that love makes us understand why togetherness can never last.Everything fades. Nothing lasts. But we hold on to art, because it translates the silence of our unspoken desires into forms which necessarily have no meaning...but it feels like a feeling. A feeling with no origin...a feeling with no end. A feeling of being temporarily present and eternally absent in our own lives.So we try to live every moment of love as if it was a painting we were trying paint with no idea what we want to make. And even when our love fades away...the painting of our love is still there. We look at the sunflowers we drew on the walls of our broken heart...the sunflowers we couldn't give because we were too... alone.'I guess, love is just brief act of being alive with someone who will eventually become a painting inside the gallery of your grieving heart.'

Making a playlist is a delicate art. It's like writing a love letter, but in a better way. You get to say what you want to say without actually saying it. You get to use someone's else poetry to express how you feel. And then there are rules. It's gotta be entertaining. You gotta tell the story. You can't be too obvious but, you can't be too obscure either. You can't double up on songs by the same artist, unless ofcourse that's your theme. Anyway a good complication, like so many things in life, it's hard to do.

My dear, Melancholy
It's an open letter to you. I wish I could come and see you. I have a lot of things to say, but today I'm writing the least of them, keeping all the other things due. Remember me when you can? I swear, it's all my love, because I never pretend. Waiting for you to write, I turn time into sand.

deciding to love someone is like rereading the same book, each time you discover diff lines that resonate deeply and make you contemplate something you hadn't realized before. you read it again, knowing you'll never get enough of it and always find sumn new to love about them

Men in love are the cutest creature on the earth

I find it utterly difficult when someone suddenly asks me the question “Whats your favourite movie of all time?”

First of all with 100plus years of recognised history, its difficult to name one, second I am not the same person I was a film ago, third - favourite is very subjective to what my current mental state is and last I cannot think of anything other than The Shawshank Redemption which I saw back in 9th grade.

So yeah! I don’t have a perfect answer to your question but if you ask me what is the last thing that teared you up or made you rethink about the futility of life or made you miss someone or made you hysterical, I might have a better answer.

It’s a feeling when you breathe music all day but when someone makes you incharge of the party you’re like I can’t think of one song. The Socrates in you hits up with “What is a song even”

Your hands carry the history of all your tears and the tears of those you have loved. Your tears have bruised your hands so many times with lost memories and confusing feelings, but you always gave
refuge to your tears in your hands, because you like to collect your sadness instead of dealing with it.
It makes more sense to suffer than to suffer while trying to understand why have you been feeling so irreversibly unhappy and disappointed in yourself You have stopped blaming the world for your sorrows because everytime you cover your eyes with your hands
while having an emotional breakdown, you realize.. Nothing is real in this life except your own hands when it comes to comforting yourself or expecting to be comforted by someone, for your hands feel more alone than you...and your hands are that version of yourself who is too vulnerable to ask for affection, but they are self-aware enough to articulate their aloneness into this
unique sadness which eventually makes them forever so wrinkled and beautiful and rigid and gentle and broken.