Teenage Dreams

One day you are awoken in midnight by voices screaming “Happy Birthday” with the best possible desire to synchronize than the voices of a choir, and then you realize things aren’t the same anymore. You’re no longer a teenager. Things seem so rapid and fast with all the changes going on around you. You got friends getting married, some are addicted to drugs, some are travelling the world, some are still focused on their life and working hard enough with a possibility that there is a bright future waiting ahead and there are a few of them who still have to take permission to stay out of home late after six thirty. Not every time things happen to be a story. A beautiful looking text is not always a quote. Things only seem beautiful when relates to your own life. Texts seem to touch your heart and drill right through the tiny body of yours enough to give  you an uplift to the spiritual level of understanding where you are made to feel you are not the only one to go through this, or at

Being a man of few words is a very difficult task in this society that can’t stop speaking. It’s just way too much to process when too much of it has been going on and it’s much harder when talking hadn’t been beneficial in the past at all. One could always ignore the negatives and head towards the source of light but it’s too hard when you end up colliding in the mirror, a mirror of thoughts, chained and linked over a thousand perspectives, hard to get your focus off of. When you’re not even the hero of your own story, because of the small demon in your brain which seems to give you a free choice, but what it really does is take control. It seems to be there for you but instead what it does is keeps you for itself, when you can just move on to a happier life. You seem to be going for happiness but instead it’s just a virtual image you see and once again you bang your head in the mirror thinking how you got fooled to move farther away from your dreams. This demon never allows the good

Trust me you don’t want to read this one. 😂😂 Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And please if you do read, at least make it to the end.                                                    A nother story This is a story, a similar one too many stories with a common denominator of having a plot, a sub plot, a background (well, no background) a suspense and much more but the numerator which varies in this bit of a story is the way It’s going to lead you. This is a high maintenance story. At every full stop and at every comma, you need to stop and purify yourself over the toxicity of the characters and prepare yourself for the twist and turns followed by a sudden bump ready to make you fall out of your track of reading this series of texts. This is about a bunch of friends. The friendship dates way back to the time when dinosaurs still existed or maybe the big bang occurred. They were typical Mahabharata like characters with names like Ram, Sita, Laxman, Krishna, Draupadi, Gita, Radha and

I wasn't dressed the best, the first time I saw her.  The bliss of ignorance filled the air as a blow of senseless wisdom filled the spaces. Timing was at it's finest brew and the temperature of the room was matching the coffee pouring down of the coffee machine.  Eyes were rolling and everyone was looking at new faces that filled the auditorium that day. Happiness and Stress were distributed in equal proportions. Some were sure of their fate while some still argued that this is not their dream.  Maybe it wasn't,  maybe it was but still fate plans the best for everyone.  The rolling eyes that day,  caught some glimpses.  Some of the same glimpses happened to take place in the coming days leading to a deja vu situation where as some glimpses,  when happened didn't felt like it was the one and only time it was happening. But then time lead to prove that it was. Time is a strong player of the game. I never knew that the glimpses that happened only one, was going to happen

Best buddy of a time No texts or calls in years. All these days life happened but all was the misnomer of fear. Escaping dreams of reality The fear of revolt of self Reliability of soul Freedom of death Trap doors of fear Seeds of the autumn The golden forest around Calmness leading to the rain. Hatch of slack Poverty of kindness Redemption of hearts Slaughtered by blindness. Dragging lines of poetry As it extends Same as you Depends on who presents. Same words of different people. As it blossoms in the forest of rain. Equality prevails and so does happiness .. Thank you for visiting. Please like share and comment.. HAVE A GOOD DAY!

The stories of success are effective when it comes from someone successful. This is one of the solid statements that won’t be contradicted on any grounds. What if I change the things the other way around? What if the truth is that, all those who have been successful have written their story way earlier than they claimed they did? Then, Will I have the courage to complete what I just started, A story-The story of success. The world has been saying practice because practice makes a man perfect. Yeah can’t seem true as it gets but where we miss is realizing the aspects to practice. You can’t expect an elephant to practice climbing a tree and hope that one day it’ll get perfect in it. Maybe it can get true but it’ll need constant practice from one generation to another where all the members of a ancestry will devote their life for a cause and when millenniums will have passed, one generation will arise where a fat creature with a trunk in its mouth which may or mayn’t be an elephant w

I was wrong that day and the biggest mistake I made was thinking it to be a regular day. It was a regular day in the sense that there were no special markings on the wall calendar but it was seriously something more than normal for me to flirt with someone after a long gap of many months. My recent break-up, which was a couple of months back had left me with no intention to be involved again in this agonizing game of heart make and heart breaks but seeing this girl for the first time had a different feeling. It was a reflex that I started talking with her and it was a reflex that simple texts lead to serious conversations and there were ingredients of flirt in every bite of the dish. Had the leisure lasted a bit longer, I would've taken things way down but  life had different plans. That was what happened that day and it ended up for good. You can't write this stuff. It's more beautiful when it's unexpected and that was something that happened the following day. I was