For Her

This will be my last post for a long time, so I thought I should write something meaningful. This is for the light which made my world illuminated.

I asked her, “What do you see in me?” She said, “Everything”.

I liked her even before I had seen her. She is a child, a guide, a precious stone, a beautiful princess and someone who loved me unconditionally. She is innocent like a child and will complain about the whole world in the evening. Fir sure I know she does not like if queue would not move fast or airtel will send her a caller tune or someone who would not give seat to a old lady. She has a beautiful smile, expressive eyes, strong character and solid confidence. I like her because I want to see those eyes everyday, so innocent and so pure. Every expression feels like pure drops of dew on the grass blade. I like her because she could hear my gibberish intently for hours. I like her because she is imaginative.

When I met her first time, she was sorry. She had a flower basket in her one hand and ear in the other. She was sorry because she was late as she wanted to pick some flowers for me. All my frustration of wait vanished as soon as I saw her eyes. Her eyes were so expressive that I could tell she was really sorry. She has very beautiful eyes. You can see all her expressions through her eyes. Her eyes told me how happy she was to see me and how sad she was when I left her.

Someone ones told me never hurt a person who loves you, but the irony is we usually hurt then whom we love most. At the moment she is angry with me. She has all the right reasons to be angry. She may not come back but I will wait for her, as long as I can. All I have to do is keep hope.

P.S. I Love you

Blank Pages

A life is counted by moments, not by years.

Today was one of those days when I feel nothing, nothing at all, a total numbness. I feel so numb that I can hear silence in my head. These are the days when I question my existence. Each of these days is like a blank page in my diary, a page for which no one cares whether it is there or not. If I tear off all these blank pages from the dairy, I will be left with pages I have truly lived.

Today I want to feel pain, a shear pain which will wake me up from this numbness. No one feels more alive than a man out of breath swimming for shore. He knows he exists and he fights for it. Today I am not sure whether I will fight for my existence or not because I am unsure about my own existence.

Every week when I call my mother, she would ask me about what happened last week? Every time my answer would be “Nothing”. For a long time nothing has happened to my life. It is just stagnant. May be I am numb because I am stagnant.

What makes us feel alive? Why do you work – to live next day; what will you do tomorrow - work again to live next day. Are we living today just to live tomorrow? Is the whole point of living now come down to “just living” or “sustaining tomorrow”. When did we stopped living and started filling diaries with blank pages. I do not want to look back in 40 years and say all I did was survived last 40 years.

I am sorry, I am just too depressed.

Earth First

So sad but so true.