A Love Story? – Chapter Thirteen

So, my dear friends, as many of you know, I generally end up writing too much on social stigmas. Now as this particular story is influenced, or more accurately designed, based on daily prompts, today’s daily prompt was interesting.
Spicy. Really interesting, you say. I thought so too. So I ended up writing comedy, to spice up our otherwise grim tale. Let’s see how well I did.

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We all have this basal instinct to blame our shortcomings on something else. It happened because of him or her but not me. We all need a god and a devil to break our stones, to bear the burden of our blames. In reality, if we look real close for it, we’ll learn only one truth. There isn’t a god and there is definitely not a devil. In the end, all there is to it, is you and your choices. Choices. Continue reading “A Love Story? – Chapter Thirteen”

Wings of Life

My wings of life were long forgotten,

Burned and smoked,

My thoughts they are blanketed by bitter nights,

I muddy the wings of despair I never chose,

Yet I take a flight through burning sky.

A Love Story? – Chapter Twelve

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Just like most young adults, I also live in another little locality extending on the corners of an already overcrowded colony filled with thousands. There is nothing special to this place: it’s just another one of the locality lost in the capital where we turn blind eye one too many times, another land full of sewage, full of broken streets, huddle of buildings we call home. But my home is also a part of this land, away from the noises of busy roads. Even through the faint hum of traffic in the background, there is something so visceral about the quietness of it all, quite which washes away the discordant reality of life. It is amazing how I step out of the city into this quiet haven. The jungle of modern times, made of brick and concrete, that rapes the naked simplicity of nature on every step. Generally my stroll through the dirt road use to be uneventful, but on certain evenings, out of the ashes of its stillness, it can surprise you.

Continue reading “A Love Story? – Chapter Twelve”

A Love Story? – Chapter Eleven

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You know, as Sandhya spoke of all that conspired in her life, I was constantly trying to shield the scream that I wanted to release. The anger which was evident by little grunts out of my mouth was almost unbelievable. If you’ll ask me why so angry, I’ll counter-question, was I supposed to be happy? I’ve never understood this abusive father theme. And to imagine the pain that Sandhya went through, it’s not something worth even mentioning in few broken words.

Continue reading “A Love Story? – Chapter Eleven”

Trapped between expectation and desire.

“What have I become, my sweetest Friend, everyone I know walks away in the end. You can have it all, my empire of dirt, I will let you down, I will make you hurt – Trent Reznor.”
The first thought that came in my mind.

A Thought Process

I’m trapped inside this endless darkness, this four walled prison yet you cannot cage the passion, the avidity that flows through my bones, for it is a part of me, for it is unstoppable. You tell me to “shut up”, to “seal this filthy mouth of mine” and your brutal words are enough to shatter me but I’ll happily pick myself up, piece by piece because I’m taught to not give up on people, even if just the sight of them fills my insides with utter disgust.
I am shackled to expectations, each one of them leaving a mark, more painful than the other. At times even my own voice seems to be a distant memory, my thoughts too dry, my words unreachable. I feel like the world around me is fading away or maybe it is just my existence that has become rotten. It feels as if my blood…

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A Love Story? – Chapter Ten

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The past cannot be erased and it doesn’t come back to haunt us, it simply never leaves. I learned that first-hand on that particular morning. How much I liked to believe that I had moved on, I liked to believe it was a memory I could walk away from. But I guess my over inflated ego deserved that. A sucker punch. I was aching in that moment, I guess the reminder was too much, even Sandhya’s presence in my arms wasn’t enough to ignore the storm that came crashing down hard on me.

But don’t worry my silent friend, my over inflated ego does have a high shock absorbent property. Only if our brain worked like a hard disc, so many memories I’d like to overwrite, so many memories I’d like to delete, I do not want any cached versions of any of that. That was a nerd joke. Never mind.

You know I guess I stayed silent for maybe a little while longer than I should have. Mother got slapped way too often, it always hurt, not only for her, for me too. I guess, I still have the scars etched in my mind and heart from the figurative slaps. In Sandhya’s case, she experienced the slaps literally.

Continue reading “A Love Story? – Chapter Ten”


Around the World

People have scars in all sorts of unexpected places. Like secret road maps of their personal histories, diagrams of all of their old wounds. Most of our old wounds heal, leaving nothing behind but a scar. But some of them, don’t.

Some wounds, we carry with us everywhere… and though the cut is long gone, the pain still lingers.


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The last word

Walking With Scars

It is the   31. of July 2017, and this early morning around 6:45 my dog died in my arms.

One Winter day in 2006 I ventured a few miles out of Fairbanks and picked up a little german shepherd. We had just moved to Alaska a few months before, and lived in a cabin near Ester with our two little daughters. We named him Ivan.

Shortly after, I started working at the Artisan’s Courtyard close to the University of Alaska, as an artistic coordinator. My boss was fantastic. She had built a beautiful office for me inside the existing lobby area, and had it painted in warm tones of dark plum, light driftwood and darkest violet which appeared almost black. I turned it into a little haven which Ivan shared with me almost every day for several years. Girls visiting the ballet classes would often arrive early with their…

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