You’re not what they see..

You’re not what they see..

You’re much more than they see.

You’re not not your age,

Nor the size of clothes you wear.

You’re not your weight,

Or the colour of your hair.

You’re not your name,

Or dimples on your cheeks.

You’re all the books you read,

And all the words you speak.

You’re your croaky morning voice,

And the smiles you tries to hide.

You’re the sweetness in your laughter,

And every tear you’ve cried.

You’re the songs you sing so loudly,

When you know you’re all alone.

You’re the places that you’ve been to,

And the one that you call home,

You’re the things in which you believed in,

 And the people that you love,

You’re the photos in your bedroom,

And the future you dream of.

You’re made of so much beauty,

But it seems that you’ve forget.

When you decided that you were defined,

By all the things you’re not..


Magical she!

The notion of leaving the person we love is bewildering.It’s insane. It’s startling. It’s impossible.

But for her, it is possible. It would only be insane if she stayed. Don’t judge her. Don’t stone her to death. You have to walk a mile in her shoes to understand what she is doing.

She is beautiful, intelligent, sensitive.

She is a full moon in a dark, cold night.

She grabs sand and turns it to stars.
She is magic. She is love itself.
She waited so long to find him. She loved him more than she loves her own skin. But guess what? She left him.
With tears in her eyes and a dagger in her heart, she set him free.
She left him because she wanted more than merely hearing sweet words. She wanted more than a breathtaking lovemaking experience.

Her needs were more than gifts, words and lovemaking.

She wanted to see actions. She craved his presence in every area of her life.
She wanted attention. She wanted to see a meal cooked for her once in a while, no matter how bad it is.
She wanted to be asked what she did in the morning and what she’s up to at night.

She wanted to be taken out on a date.

She wanted to be given a red rose once in a year.

She wanted to simply “exist.” To be listened to. To be appreciated. To be adored.

She wanted to be the one and only woman in his life.
She is an island to discover. But he never tried to land on that island and be lost amidst its trees. He stayed on shore and chose to behold the island from a distance.

With time, that island died. She died. She wasn’t discovered.

She left because she was a book to read and he never bothered to hold that book and surf through its pages. He thought the cover was the treasure. He didn’t know that inside of it lies a whole kingdom of gold.

She felt like a flower that needed constant watering. He forgot to water it every day. The flower withered and died.
Bit by bit, she started losing her light. She turned into a candle that was about to be put out at any moment.

Love is supposed to lift you up, crack your heart wide open, make you happy. All of a sudden, love was making her sad.

She gave and gave, and gave. But she got nothing in return.
She told him what was missing and he heard her; but he never truly listened.

He took her for granted.

He thought she will stay despite all her misery.
He knew that she didn’t care about words, money, cuddling, or a good f*ck. She cared about being with a partner who will share her every thought, every emotion.
A partner who is willing to share her dreams with her. A partner who’s not too busy pursuing his own dreams, thoroughly dismissing hers.
She needed a man whom she wouldn’t consider leaving. She craved a smooth ride where she didn’t have to choose between her man or her happiness.
She wanted a man who “is” happiness.

She left and he didn’t quite understand why she did.

She knew that in a year or two, maybe ten, he will understand. He will look back and realize what what was needed to keep her alive in his arms.
She will always love him for love isn’t framed into a relationship. She tried to save that relationship though, but it was already gone with the wind.

She loves him, but she had to put her self first, for once.

She wants him, but she had to leave.
She left to find the bruised self that she has lost. She will put her back in place, wrap her with a bandage and continue the journey alone.
She left to love herself again, know her self-worth again and turn sand to stars again.
Maybe, just maybe, one day a man will make her his own star, then she won’t have to create stars ever again, for she will become one.

Summers and Springs

We sat under an old thorn-tree

And talked away the night,

Told all that had been said or done

Since first we saw the light,

And when we talked of growing up

Knew that we’d halved a soul

And fell the one in each other’s  arms

That we might make it whole;

Then he had a murdering look,

For it seemed that he and she

Had spoken of their childish days

Under that very tree.

O what a bursting out there was,

And what a blossoming,

When he had all the summer-time

And she had all the spring..

Happy Birthday

Darling Aanand,

I know you’d be surprised to read this letter because you wouldn’t have ever expected it. It’s slightly bizarre for me to write it as well but I thought I would do this since it’s your birthday and the day itself obliges me to think about you, wish you, curse you and thank you (Damn, I can’t think of a single ‘thank you’ that I’d said to you. Yes, am serious).

 I guess God gave his best shot at creating ‘awesome siblings’ when he made you and me. I would not annoy you too much with this letter because I know you wouldn’t enjoy getting emotional about things, especially on your special day; however, you know me. You know how I own one of the sloppiest hearts and how difficult it is for me to ask it to shut up and let my mind do the work. So, what I’ll do is, I’ll remind you of ten of the hundreds of most memorable instances we’ve shared and I know these would make you laugh, get embarrassed, smile, bang your head on the wall and call me up and say- ‘Shit, why did you write that?’ So, here we go! (Cross your fingers)

This is about the time we were kids and I hated tagging you along with me when I went out to play with my friends. So, I would lock you in the house while you slept in the afternoons and leave for all the fun. Mind it I was not an EVIL.
You were the most brilliant brother because you would help me study. Haha I know that’s funny but whenever I studied (till I was probably forteen and you were four) I made you sit right next to me and listen to all the stories of my History, Geography, Science and Literature text books. You took interest in all the crap and then one day, you grew up and you stopped listening.

I still remember how I gifted you a ‘Slam Book’ for your 4th or 5th  birthday because I knew you would never use it and eventually it would be mine.

We both loved watching WWE and we would even have wrestling matches on the bed where as a rule I threw you on the floor and won. This continued only till i was nineteen or twenty and I could bully you because after that we stopped the matches as I had started losing…

Then, there was this time when a dog bit me and you were oh! So excited because you thought I would turn into something with magical powers like Spiderman (oops Woman) over night.

I think I need to thank you for one big thing you taught me in life- ‘Watching Cartoons.’ Yes, I probably am still so hooked to ‘cartoons’ because of you. FYI, you gave us a tough time with Noddy and Pokemon. Also, you made the entire family hate #MukeshKhanna. I can’t forgive you ever for marking me feel so uncomfortable with that bizarre #ShaktimanCostume, by wearing it on every occasion or on every dress-freedays in school.

Hey! Mittal-Shital were my all time favourite.. they are the only one who can drag you to your school.

For one phase in life, when I was literally free.. I even ‘worked’ for you. I used to write your assignments and projects while you relaxed just because I wanna try my ability to write in anyone’s handwriting.. but I stopped doing that when I wrote thirty long pages for your SS assignment that too in Diwali vacation and you were least bothered to say thank you even..

I am in love with your wired and sometimes lethal sense of humour and am a fan of your timing..

Hahaha, that Bhavnagar incident just popped up in my memories.. #DhulneDhefa!!

Now, here comes the very last and final thing of this list. I accidentally read the messages you exchanged with a girl and you texted her like a gentleman. (I couldn’t stop myself from reading those). #^*% I was shocked to see you could write such wonderful things. So whether you were hitting on her or being her friend or whatever, that day I just knew- ‘Ah! He is my brother, after all.’ 

And yes! Sorry for making you cry every now and than by saying ‘poor Adopted child’

When you said that you wanna drop your commerce study and pursue your passion- Photography/Cinematography, I was the one who opposed. I thought you supposed to do what is mainstreem.. as in this field one can’t stand out without any GODFATHER- but you proved me wrong, thank you for not listening to me. I am proud of your achievements.. 

Now, I finally wish you a very Happy Birthday and thank you for being the best brother ever. You have been a best friend, a parent, a sibling, a foe, a driver, a pet, an admirer, a child, a clown, a teacher, a ‘listener’ and everything a person could be and you have been incredible at all these roles. I am blessed to have you in my life 🙂

Happy Birthday!

With Love,

Ohw yes

P.S: I know I am the best’est’ sister you could possibly have too..

P.P.S: Message me what present you need for your birthday. You would defiantly be disappointed..


(Your the most loving, caring and genuinely gunius sister)

Die old with Me.

Die old with me.


Beneth the old ashoka tree.

While the last summer sun sets,

Grow grey with me slowly..

As calendar days glide to the floor 

No pomp and circumstances,

No final words,

Just two people, 

who spent a life,
Loving each other,

Hanging on for earth’s final turn,
Hanging on for earth’s final spin.

Die old with me.
But before that 

Live at fullest with me.

Not like she used to..

She doesn’t talk about you anymore.

Not like she used to.

Now, when she hears your name, when someone brings up you..

One of the few of us, who knows about you..

She’ll cringe and look at us with those eyes, those brilliant melancholy eyes of her,

And for a moment even you’ll think that all the sadness of the universe has been forced in to her tiny body.

This one heart is now so fragile and so close to breaking, but..

Then she’ll put on smile..

One that’s so obviously forced, it’s nearly painful to see..

And she’ll change the subject.

But she misses you- I can tell.

Someday she’ll be looking out of window, or daydreaming in the class, and you can tell it’s you she’s think about.

Her eyes go kinda sad and she looks kinda hurt, that’s how I know..

That’s how I figured it out..

She doesn’t just like you..

She loves you.. 

she needs you..

She needs you to care,

You’re the only one who matters anymore..


She doesn’t talk about you anymore.

Not like she used to.

Fourteenth year!! 

Fourteenth year,
I am still avoiding those places where we’d been to, 
I am still avoiding to wear those clothes which have your fragrance,
I am still avoiding to think much of you in sleepless nights,
I am still avoiding to mention your name while talking about teenage, 
I am still avoiding to pass through that lane in which you used to stay,
And I am still avoiding crowds
Everyone is someone’s 
And you’re still not mine!!!
Fourteenth year!!