The secret

In life we all have an unspeakable secret, an irreversible regret, an unreachable dream and an unforgettable love

The Past

Love the people who treat you right, forget about the ones who don't, and believe that everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said that it'd be easy, they just promised it would be worth it

A day in the life of a "proud" Delhiite

I want a new car. I have wanted one for ages now. Please register this in your mind, separately. This fact has nothing to do with what I'm about to share. But its important for you to make note of it. Anyhow, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, I was driving my car through the busy streets of Delhi's Laxmi Nagar area: a notorious are per Se, but we are accustomed to such notoriety in our lives aren't we? And I was listening to Hit 95 FM, some nice track playing, was humming along, waiting for the traffic to move. Wham! I looked behind. A Sardarji, on a scooter, with two females sitting behind him had decided to check out the sound my car made if they thwack it with their f**** two wheeler. So, Delhiite that I am, while driving, looked behind and barked abuses. Satisfied, I drove ahead when suddenly this skinny young Sardar started banging his bare fist on my window pane. I was baffled. Another Sardar (yes, another one, with many more to come) decided to see how my engine looked, from underneath the moving car. Fortunately or Unfortunately he didn't die. Heck, he dint even have a scratch. Should have at least fainted, for what happened moments later, surely warranted at least a little tiny trickle of blood !

So he escaped, only I didn't. The crowd gathered. Since no one had anything else to do, they all banged their fists on my car in unison. I was just a mere spectator. Broke my windshield, took my wipers home. Took me out of the car by the collar, and vented all their frustrations on me. You often see these scenes taking place while you're driving. But you just see, mull over it for a few seconds, and move on. I used to do the same. Now I couldn't. Because that thing with the help of which I would have "moved ahead" was being annihilated. With random people frisking me, barking expletives, standing right in the middle, I wondered about all those instances where I saw someone being taken to task, and never bothered to find out what was going on, who was to blame, and what finally consequenced. Back to the real world, so I was being thrashed, ridiculed and would most probably have been A) beaten to death. B)beaten till I passed out C)beaten till I heroically saw blood on my lips, and like the Bollywood heroes from the 80's beat the crap out of the 70 odd people, who would come one by one, and get beaten in a synchronized fashion.

Anyhow, so after all this, finally some nearby shopkeepers came to my rescue, thawed the enraged public and called the Delhi Police. Half an hour later, the PCR showed up. In typical fashion, took out a cardboard, On a blank sheet of paper, noted down addresses, names of who so ever they could lay their hands on. They left, everyone left, not before I had to apologize to the Sardars and not before they had whisked "kharcha-paani" out of me.

Apology : for driving in Delhi, and expecting not to be beaten up.
Apology : for not keeping a hockey stick or a revolver.
Apology : for being 22-something and hence leaving an impression that we 20-somethings get drunk all the time, drive rash all the time, have all the money in the world, so our fathers would non chalantly pay if we kill someone hither and thither.
Apology : for being a part of the system, where if you are outnumbered, you are outlawed immediately.
Apology : for being a Delhiite.

Now why I wanted you to register the fact that I wanted a new car is coz I ain't getting any in the near future at least :o(

denial

You.

i cant think of anyone but you. why ? i dont know. but its you and only you. Coherence falls to its knees with the effort to describe it. but ur like magic. you do something to me . no its not love. im too cynical for love. no its not lust. im too scared of lust. but something.

something

I dont know but i know. i smile when i cry and i laugh when im angry. you? i dont like u per se. i like whats in u. the difference. a dark lost fairy around mere mortals and ur floundering to keep urself intact. u dont know whether to reach out or to run into yourself. this is not an ode because i dont love u.

but ur like magic. and u dont believe me because u say that u dont believe in magic. u liar. Because u believe in it with all ur heart which u keep locked away. and now i see it .and now i know it. and ur scared coz its out. and i can see it clearly . now what will do? what will you do? what will u have me do?

but i dont love you because i am too cynical for love and too fearful of lust. love is not the magic. the magic is you and thats when Coherence weeps for me to stop . my head hurts coz of this nonsense. nonsense?! NONSENSE. im so strange im in love with a dark angel. oh god, oh no... i said im in Love..

No......

the nest

I have set the bird free,
free to fly away
for as long as she wants,
to as far as she wishes,
to make new beginnings,
to explore new horizons.

for i know,
the nest is where she'll come,
for that is where she belongs.