You did it again.

The boy who left me without an explanation.

Your absence hurts me. It has drained me physically and emotionally and mentally. In between hours and minutes, my mind keeps going back to your memories. I did everything I could to let go. I’ve talked about you over and over again, to try to get you out of my system. It doesn’t help. I still miss you when I’m listening to James Arthur. I still miss you when I’m sitting in the backseat of the cab. I miss you so much that it annoys me. I saw this coming, you know. You loved hopping from one heart to another. But I just thought, you’ll halt this time. Oh, how naive of me to trust a bee. I told myself to never expect  much from you. But I did. I restrained myself from loving you. But the fool I am, I did love you. I fell for you hesitantly and unwilling. I fell for you unexpectedly and unreasonably. It’s sad you lived up to your reputation. It’s so unexpected that you turned out exactly like the kind I hated. I saw a different version every time we met. Yet, I couldn’t be enough for any one of those. I saw a different man every time I forgave the last one. How I wish I had listened to my brain. How I wish I had ignored your text at midnight. How I just wish I hadn’t made you my world. It’s bizarre how I’ve spent nights missing you and you don’t even care. I’m pretty sure you’ve forgotten me, like I never happened to you. Honey, I’ll take your share of blame. You just did what you do best. Skipping to the part where you make them believe
in your lies and then swish past. I should have known, you don’t know how to love. I should’ve known, you’re just a pathetic liar. A man just made up of deceit. I should’ve known treachery runs in your veins, not blood. Oh, I should’ve seen it coming.
You weren’t even man enough to tell me why you left me. You left me hanging on a cliff. Hanging onto all your meaningless words. From hours and hours of promises to simply disappearing on me, I hope you have a reasonable explanation for it. I remember you asked me why I had commitment issues. It’s so ironic how your answer was just a mirror away. I opened my well bolted iron doors for you, and you just sealed me in again. You didn’t have to pretend to love in the first place. You didn’t have to paint me a blue sky if you had to turn it to rain. Trust me, you didn’t have to walk into my picture, if your name was just supposed to appear as a cameo.
You didn’t even give me a chance to reason out. You didn’t even tell me what went wrong. You just left in the middle of my sentence. In the middle of everything. You just fucking vanished. I mean you just disappeared, like I never felt the taste of your words. I don’t wanna take the high road this time, you know. I hope this piece of writing pierces your conscience and goes straight to your heart. I hope this makes you uncomfortable. I really hope after reading this you have an uneasy night. I hope this piece keeps you up at night thinking about all the hearts you carried out on your palm,and then dropped them callously. Some nights I’m glad that you left me, that it ended before permanent damage occurred. But some starry evenings, I cry my heart out because of the slight scars. I don’t wanna wish you luck for your future endeavors. You weren’t mature enough few days back. I’m not adult enough to let it go now. I guess, we’re finally even.

Yours lovingly
The one who thought you’d changed.


You didn’t have to pretend.

I bruised my knee once. I broke my leg once.But then I got my heart broken by someone who claimed to love me . Trust me, nothing ever pained me so much, not even the doctor’s syringe. It was like someone pushed me from cloud nine. Shut the doors of my castle on my face. He used my favorite colors to paint the rosy picture. He used blues of my insecurities, red shades of my subdued love, a little of grey here and there for the times I loved to stay quiet ,and a little of black. Black was his choice, not mine. the piece turned out to be a masterpiece before it caught fire.
I still remember laughing when he promised me things I knew were hollow. He did assure me, did promise to not become the kind I hate. But weeks into “us”, he’s become exactly like the ones we once laughed at it. I can’t recognize his touch anymore, his voice feels so plain now. The inside of his head doesn’t feel like home anymore. His grey sweater fails to bewitch me. I keep going back to the time he first said those words. I keep going back because this man in front of me is a stranger with memories. This man on the other side of the phone doesn’t know me well. This man, well, this man is not the one i used to wake up next to. He says I’m dramatic. He’s right, I’m overly dramatic but that’s because I can see what people have up their sleeves. And what I see here is definitely not love. What surprises me is how can I be shocked to see him become what he is? I knew him all too well. I walked into it, knowing well his reputation. So I guess, it’s stupid to put the blame on you. Let’s split? I’ll take home my burden of letting you in again and again and again. I’ll carry home the times I should have walked away but decided to stay. Pack a bag and leave this time for sure, I swear. But why don’t you try asking me to stay once? It’s the least you can do after your hollow deep lies. I can finally see why you used black. It’s the color you’re made of, isn’t it? This one color that never mixes with others, instead breaks them and walks over their personality. I’ll just say, it’s okay. Seasons change, the sun goes down and the stars continue to shine. Days passed and so easily, your love changed. Oh no, wait, you found out I was plain, simple boring. It took us three years, a month long relationship and just one meet to realise we weren’t meant for each other. What’s the worst? I sob for you, I’m feeling miserable and you don’t even care. You sleep peacefully, it doesn’t bother you at all. Tears roll down my face, not yours. I feel helpless and alone, not you. It’s good to see how you’re working so hard to make our “thing” work. Just a quick word of advice before I say fuck you and your texts, never say I love you to someone if you have to ghost on them, it really doesn’t strengthen your stand.


People aren’t like a movie. You can’t replay your favourite person when you’re upset, you can’t go back to them when you’re feeling blue. You can never guess their end, never know what’s up their sleeves. They don’t come with genres. You cannot walk down the aisle of the “people library” and pick one to rent. They are unexpected paradoxes of your thoughts. You can’t find online analysis for their behaviour, you have to believe what they say. They don’t explain themselves with subtitles, summaries or movie posters. People, don’t stay with you forever, in your rack for times to come. You can’t really expect them to be there for you when it starts to drizzle . No, people are not like the movies. They are like different genres blended with colorful hues of life,incompatible.
Made up of different lines of your favourite character, with backgrounds of your most liked movie. No, they aren’t only comic or romantic. They aren’t purely fictional or a biopic. People, oh the ones we love, are built of stories greater than the 70mm celluloid, with beats of their own. Not every story is our favourite, not every person clicks, but we still watch those, at least once. Thank heavens, people aren’t like the movies, with drastic and dramatic ending. People, well, you can write your ending with them. My personal favourite is the movie called People, it’s a complex genre and talks about a myriad of emotions. Layers of thoughts and desires and ideas. It’s a must watch, you know. Not everyone is a 10/10 but they are an experience.


We met halfway through our miseries
Dancing drunk under the night sky
You can name your favorite star, I already did mine
I know nothing makes sense right now
But let it be like this
Senseless and in love
Tipsy and stuttering
Both of us blur out
Lying down under the lamp post
Let me just be myself, for the night
Put down my masks and take away your facades
Let me be myself for a little while
We can roll out our secrets
I swear I’ll keep them safe or maybe not
But just talk and intoxicate me with your words
I can already feel your body heating up
It isn’t alcohol, it’s not what we’ve been smoking.
Heated up from our love that flows in my veins
I can feel the grass underneath my elbow
The light illuminating the scars on your soul
You know, I like those demons you hide
The stories you tell me about the scars
I’ve memorised them all
I can feel the alcohol slip out of my system
But I still feel faded, blurred on this feeling
I could tell you a hundred things I loathe
I would spend every night counting the stars with you
But you don’t need forever
You never asked for infinities
You loved here and now
Always looked for the present
Let me just say before the present runs out
Before it becomes yet another chance I had
Just before this present becomes a resentful past
Or should I just keep quiet?
Let you smoke the circles
Let all the 2am thoughts be casual
Away from the chaos of the cliched
Distant from another ‘friends turned lovers’
The cigarette butt on your lower lip sits so ignorantly at my place
It’s still burning, brighter than the passions I hide
But, ugh, this is too cliched
I’m not supposed to fall for you
We had a deal.
Still, I envy the cigarette stick that gets to be so close to you
I know you’re blowing up your anger with the smoke rings
I’ve been quiet for a long time now
You haven’t spoken either
that lucky cigarette keeps you busy
But this feels great you know
This silence at 3 in the night
I can hear your thoughts, I can hear your distant dreams
The words that float in the air, unable to become sentences
I guess,I just had my forever in your present.

I’m glad, you left.

Falling for you wasn’t that bad you know ? I mean obviously we didn’t end up together. Obviously we aren’t the new Augustus and Hazel but at least you inspired me to become a person with words. What’s your inspiration they ask . I mostly talk about anything except you, I’m too selfish to make you a great part of my life now that you’re gone. “Your words feel so real” they often tell me. I wish I could show them what we had. Darling, mere paper isn’t enough to represent the fire we had. My pen is too weak to capture our moments. They weren’t the best, but they were “ours”. I’ve realised no matter how much people pretend, they have a soft corner for broken hearts. They still prefer incomplete love stories over a happily ever after. Mine, well, they are full of heart breaks, you see. It’s fictional, I announce to the world. Again, because I don’t wanna name the soul that wounded my heart. Bleed your heartbreaks through words, I repeat to my friends. Lately, I found out that my friends preferred to read a character’s half told, heartsick story than to hear my own. So be it.  There’s not much difference between the girl who lives in my words and me, except her story ends with a definite full stop. Mine ends in the middle of a sentence. That’s from where I completed hers. So, my preface  someday might read your name. When I’m old enough to let it go and mature enough to give you your due credit. It’s so ironic how I preach about existence of love out there, tell them to hold onto their hopes. But we live in a world made up of ironies. We live in a castle of false assumptions. So let this be yet another one. Recently, I’ve started enjoying myself. Sadistic pleasure, you see. Of people who take pride in their partners and accidental “destined” meetings. It’s not long before they become a part of my group. My group of cynics and non believers. Not everyone is as cynical as I am. Not everyone is so dramatic as I am. But to be honest, not everyone felt something so deep , as I did .  I know my words and stories become repetitive. They are. I’m not denying that fact. But you can’t blame me for that. Writing expresses your inner emotions, I read this line online. It does. For my writing, expresses the words I can’t speak from my mouth. So this girl,from my pages does. But you know,  you’re lucky. Words have immortalised you.

Thank you so much

imagehello lovelies!!! My page has finally crossed the 100 followers milestone. I am so grateful to you guys! It means so much to me when you guys take out time to read my stuff!! Thanks a ton people ❤️ Keep shining and smiling amazing bloggers !!


I really don’t mind spending Saturdays alone sitting on my couch. No I don’t mind not having anyone to talk to in spite of over 10 close friends. The loneliness only hits me when I am sick and staring up the ceiling. It hits me when I am watching my favorite film and laughing all alone. On regular days my work keeps me unbelievably busy and I usually stretch out working till late at night. But loneliness hits me when I go to my room, the humongous bed staring at me, empty. The fact that I will go out for shopping and have no one to tell me if pink looks good on me or blue suits me better, scares me.
It’s not that I am without a loving family or incredible friends because I am not. But sometimes I want someone exclusively for me. I mean just to tell them my favourite star and talk to them about why one direction should come back and also why I hate getting up in the morning. I am not lonely literally. But the feeling at 3 of not knowing someone to text is brutal. Going on long walks in Autumn just by myself is kinda of haunting. Coming back home, an empty home in a different city is scary. I’ve been around the world, seen it all (most of it) but alone. I’ve been to the Eiffel Tower and seen the entire city but without my beloved soul. I’ve enjoyed many promotions but with my friends and family. I’ve spent birthdays alone amidst a crowd. I’ve never come home to find him waiting by the balcony for us to have dinner. Technically I’ve achieved everything I ever dreamt of. From a fancy house to luxurious holidays I have been there all. But sometimes just sometimes I feel lonely amidst the crowd. I feel insecure walking in a crowded place not knowing which way to turn. Read books about perfect ending and heard songs about perfect beginnings but I am still stuck somewhere in the middle. And the worst part ? I will go back to work on Monday and not feel a thing until it’s Friday night and I am sitting all alone in my office. This thing , you know, comes and goes.
It comes when it’s the holiday season. It comes back when I am cooking my meal but just for one. It comes when I am sitting in a coffee shop and order a single cup. It comes back when I wake up and wish myself morning. When I come home to find only my mail in my mailbox, mail for just one person.
Spread across 24 hours in between calls from my mother, texts from my dad and movies with my friends this feeling of loneliness sinks in sometimes. So literally I am not lonely.