Bucket List

The house is empty. You've collected your belongings in the cradle of your arms. They're sparse and choice. You look at the rooms, now filled with a barren bed, with a used coffee mug forgotten by the bedside, on a table that's broken a leg. You wonder when the once warm, yellow walls started peeling off, the shining wood of the cupboard holding all your favourite books came unhinged and you feel the sadness collect in the wrinkles on the corner of your eyes. But before yearning gets the better of you, you turn quickly around and walk away from your beloved room, the wooden floor creaking in complaint, against your brisk stride. You march straight out of that beautiful blue door that you loved to knock on, when you came home, tired but smiling. You walk, your eyes wandering over the curved path of cobblestones, leading to the gate and you slow down. You turn around. You breathe in the familiar shape of that pretty wooden house, which has a broken stained-glass window in ...

The wine bottle was jingling with the sound of laughter, smelled of nostalgia and tasted liquid gold. It danced in the bright eyes of friends, brought together in the worst of nights, uniting over spilled truth and the magic of years that had made them who they are. In the recesses of the mind, there was the sound of clinking plates being washed in a kitchen that held the traces of spices and the whisper of steady hands that had fed them. They looked at each other, all of them, consumed by veritaserum and the taste of love, of bonhomie, of brotherhood. And they grinned. 

The leaves in your lap were once bright green, they're now rust and gold. You keep looking at them, in a mix of disbelief, wonder and the knowledge of the inevitability of age. You trace the spine of the now crinkled paper and impulsively crush it in your palm, just to hear the satisfying chrrr. The deafening sound of a death knell, the final cry of what has been waiting to mingle with the soil, it, rose from.  You dust your palms off and shoot right up, the intense emotion telling you to flee, rising like a cry against sacrilege, in your bones. So you turn around and run. Blind, thoughtless, breathless. You run like your life depends on it. You run like there is no tomorrow. And you don't stop. Not until you collapse, on your knees, the beat of your heart reminding you to feel grateful, to be alive.  You run so far away from the remains of what was once pure life because you know you must wait. For the autumn breeze to turn to cold, to sweep away the shattered bits ...

I have loved the sea for as long as I can remember. There's something about the call of the waves, in its roars and whispers, in its torrid throws and soothing ebbs. The waves, almost speak to me, beckoning me into their embrace, playfully tugging at my feet, tripping me into the water. They remind me of the laughter shared with beautiful friends, the memory of childhood and the love leaking from the cork, capping my heart. They teach me, to sit, facing them and face the fury that is life. To laugh, as the waves hit me straight in the chest because it's only just a game, all of it, at the end of the day. They teach me to be humble and not fight the tide, for only then will I be carried to the shore. They compel me to lie freely, with arms open wide- in sheer abandon or quiet defeat. And wash over me, carrying with them, the dusty remains of bloody cuts and closed wounds. They remind me, that they're endless and eternal. Just like the birdsong in my bursting heart...

The ship sailed through the sky. The clouds were silver and round, the mast was afloat. And suddenly, a shooting star landed on the deck. She walked up to it, picked it up in her palms, her face a pallet of wonder swirled with curiosity. In her hands, the star spoke. "The little birds of the morning keep us shining, night after night The twinkling eyes of a happy life, keep us sparkling bright The wishes of a loving heart, land us in your lap tonight." She closed her eyes in thoughtful prayer, kissed the little ball of fire and flung it into the air. She heard the warmth in the laughter that echoed through the sea of clouds as she went on, to don the Captain's Hat and steered the ship through the darkness with her heart's light, paving the way.

There will be moments in your life when you are faced with the most heart-wrenching of all decisions, you will ever have to make. "There is love in holding on.  And there is love in letting go." My best friend had once said this to me at a time when it made absolutely no sense to the fueled, idealistic and obstinate conviction that defined my being. How do you possibly consider letting go of someone you love? How dare you accept defeat and give up? I will always tell you to try your hardest, to try your best and then try a little more because there is a very important difference, a very stark and pertinent one, between loving someone and living up to that love. And it's absolutely non-negotiable that you do your goddamn all to live up to your commitment. But be graceful enough to recognize that not all have the same courage and strength as you. It's what sets you apart. And you will find what you're looking for. All in good time. All our feelings, all of ...

Run away with me! I have felt this, far too many times for it to be left unsaid. I promise you a life of adventure, limitless fun, dollops of honesty and countless, shimmering moments of passion that will translate into the strings of memories you will be pulled by, the silly puppet you are. So why do you hold back? What keeps you thinking over and over about the little things that won't matter two years from now? Why do you let yourself lie awake, hounded by your worst fears, in a world that only asks you to seize this moment and be truest to it? Why would you waste these precious, irretrievable moments of your life, in pretension? Why would you choose to not let your loved ones know their irreplaceable value in your momentary, fragile lives? Why would you spend your days, counting down to the moment, when you finally fit into the wooden frame you are already conditioning yourself to grow into- leaving behind all your childlike innocence, touching naivete and immense faith ...

They were making castles in sand, enveloped in the heat of summer that bronzed their skin as they went on, oblivious, with their eyes scrunched tight enough to just know where the stray sand, thrown from their tightly clenched fists, would hit the other. The sound of laughter broke the quiet lull of the river as she suddenly jumped up and ran across the banks, unable to dodge the pellets of warm, moist sand that he threw from behind, tumbling into a heap of uncontrollable joy that shook her body and soothed her soul. Covered with the silver grey, her eyes fell upon a seashell, curled into the soft bed of the bank, right next to where her face lay. It was pearly and irresistible, so she picked it up with curious fingers and held it to her ear. It was murmuring softly, above the rush of the waves that it seemed to carry with it, like the yearning of a displaced heart that knows where its home lies. "The sands of time will carry you into a world that will bathe you in magic W...

"You deserve the best, the very best, because you are one of the few people in this lousy world who are honest to themselves and that, is the only thing that really counts."                                                                                                                            -Frida Kahlo I have often wondered what that one inviolate value is, that is indispensable to the people in my life. I think mine is courage. I don't need to think too much about why this means everything to me, simply because if I lost my courage, I'd lose the strength it takes for me to stand, unyielding, by my integrity. My pride follows my strength to remain rooted to my self fa...

You're above the clouds and the flutter of your wings remind you of this gift you have. It breaks the silence as you float through white and savour the blue and twirl just before you dive into the hues of red and gold, left in the set sun's wake. You're glad to be alive. The yellow of the sunrise is igniting the passion of flight in you all over again the next morning and so you begin your frollicking tumble through the cushion of clouds, your mind fueled by the independence of your choice and the conviction of being true to yourself. So it continues. And then, one day, when the typewriter sounds its last full stop, you are struck by the heavy, impenetrable, once comforting, silence, caught up there and no amount of jumping is pushing the curtain of solitude away. So you look around, in a desperate bid to remember why you chose this life and the memory doesn't serve the purpose of its reminder and you flounder. And you are cruising through the skies, yearning to ...

She nudged the huddled mass of human, indistinguishable from the warmth of the blanket he was wrapped in. "Are you alive?" The blanket didn't budge, even as the muffled voice filled her ears in the silence of the dark room, "Depends on how you mean it." "You're breathing, aren't you?" "If that's how you mean living, you don't really need me to answer, do you?" Her brow furrowed, she knelt on the floor hesitantly. "Whatever happened to you?" The blanket fluttered as a curtain would, when the child hiding behind it tried hardest to not move. "Whatever happens to those who live, unafraid." "I don't understand." "You won't. Run along, now." She plonked herself on to the cold floor, surer of her decision than she had been in a very long time. "Why not?" The sigh that answered her question gave away the exhaustion of a defeated, once indomitable soul. "You...

The mirror was shattered because the rays of the sun had pierced it too sharply.The fire burning it apart and the heat too consuming to endure- it broke. The reflections of the falling leaves were disjointed and warped as they fell past and scattered around the shards. She could only see her eye, brimming with tears as she stared confusedly at the piece closest to her feet. She couldn't understand how what was meant to be the source of all life, the driving force of motivation have torn this reflector of truth, shredded it so. She kneeled to try and piece it back together, in desperate denial of reality. The gaps remained. The futility of it crashed around her as the glass stared back, mocking her faith and laughing at her misguided belief that it could still be fixed. She looked away.  The soft brush of a flower that fell and landed right in the centre of the longest shard, drew her gaze. The flower was intact, so was its reflection. So what if it was too broken to proud...

Have you ever had the odd sensation of wanting to laugh and cry in the same breath? Doesn't it completely baffle your mind, that both feelings which tend to be stemming from generally polar events wish to occur at the same time? Do you feel the dark humour or genuine glee and tears of joy or silencing sorrow, battling inwardly, to determine which shall prevail and in the process, letting none escape? It sucks. (*giggles* *feels the urge to cry for giggling at something so stupid when something so profoundly bothersome is in mind*) So. I think I'm a mess of emotions in this moment. I find myself travelling back to the time I wrote my first post. Inspired by a movie that I had the grateful pleasure of watching with a friend, I promised to myself that I will begin this quest to unravel my wound up strings, brush out my dustiest corners and face the frank riddle I am, with a straight spine, unapologetic and admiring of the person I am after I discover her. I was enchanted, ent...

She didn’t want to talk anymore. She had always loved to swear. It brought out the intensity behind every feeling that reverberated through her tiny body and found pleasure in being expelled with the force and anger of a cuss. It helped her get through life because more often than not, it’s all that people deserved to be told. ‘Glorify or vilify them but you can’t ignore them’ was a loose coin rattling inside the tin can that was her head and all she wanted to do was scream.  For, ignore them, she couldn’t. But love them was something she yearned for. Yet to keep herself sane, she tried to calm herself down, relax, tell herself it’s okay but it just wasn’t working anymore. She didn’t know for sure if it was just reality of the world catching up to her or everything in it that cut her to the bone, that affected her so deeply. She just wanted the world to stop existing the way it did and become a good one. She wanted people to be honest, consistent, loyal and reliable. She wa...

"Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.They somehow already know what you truly want to become." Steve Jobs And there it is, a splash of paint on the glorious white, blinking against the sun, turning to shades of red. The auburn capturing the gold of the light, ablaze against the calm azure and just when your eyes soak her in, you realize her eyes are brighter, just as the painter meant. Coal and flecked with sparkling life, she captures your attention and lets the small smile playing at the corner of her lips mock you for thinking you were immune to her captivating charm. After all, who doesn't want to witness life in all its zeal, thrilling you into action and urging you to chase your dreams with the wind of freedom billowing through your hair as you grin, inching closer by the step? And so, she propels your spirit and captures your heart for the innocence her crow-feet captured eyes can't hide and compels you to fall in love with the richness of...

"Aankh teri bekaar hi nam hai Har pal ek naya mausam hai Kyun tu aise pal khota hai? Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai?" Really, why? Why do we let these moments that hold an undiscovered treasure trove of memories waiting to be made, go? Why do we not tell those who keep us alive by falling into our stride, urging us to move faster if their feet are pacing and slow down when they tug you into line with them, that they're indispensable and valuable to us? I don't want to wake up one day and regret that I didn't tell someone how important they are to me because it's too late. It's crucial to give these people the credit they deserve for loving us for and in spite of who we are, without waiting for an occasion to thank them. Isn't life, after all, in all its glory worth celebrating just because you're privileged enough to be alive? So here's a shout out to all my people who keep me going with a push, shove or gentle encouragement. Thank you f...

"Do you think we're mirrors?" She regarded him with an observant eye and remarked "You're coloured blue though."  "So?" went the eyebrows quizically.  "I consider myself more..red." He nodded in quiet regard.  "Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked, after a heartbeat.  "The painting you asked me to make?" "You didn't make it, did you?" "Of course not. The inspiration is missing." *A heartbeat and another* "Come." "Where to?" "Close your eyes." "I don't like this incapacitation but I think I need the adventure-" "Shh. Almost there," comes the whispered instruction. "I'm blind, I wouldn't know" she whispers back accusingly, against the palms encompassing sight. She bangs against a stone, yelping in pain and abruptly freed of the hold, having to shield her eyes against the delicate flutter of the...

"So close no matter how far Couldn't be much more from the heart Forever trusting who WE are Life is ours we live it our way All these words I don't just say And nothing else matters" Watch the wings unfurl and curl around your shoulders. Follow the dew glistening in the sunlight as they trace the lines of the pearl feathers, only to pause at the end and let go in free fall. Starved gazes too hungry to watch it fly and come rest on the floor, a destination well-earned. Soaking in the soul's calling, crying out to be caressed and drown in. Hold the eyes simmering with the fierce fire of passion that will shred your placid dreams and set fire to their ignorance, only to burn you awake. Feel your skin light up like a fuse, fingertips their fuel, the pulsating electricity of your laughter exploding in the skies like fireworks of red and gold. Listen to her breathe in surrender and hold close. Nothing else matters. PS- I know how you're feeling Mis...

O Naadan Parindey Ghar Aaja Kyun des bides phire maara Yun haal behaal thakaa haraa Kyun des bides phire maara Tu raat be raat ka banjaara O Naadaan Parindey Ghar Aaja Sau dard badan pe phaile hain Har karam ke kapde mailey hain Kaate chaahe jitna paro se hawaaon ko Khud se na bach paayega tu Todh de aasmaanon ko Phookh de jahaano ko Khud ko chhupa na paayega tu Koi bhi le rasta, tu hai tu bebasta Apne hi ghar aayega tu O Naadaan, Ghar Aaja.  Kaagaa re kaaga re mori itni araj tujhse,  Chun chun khaaiyo maans Khaaiya na tu naina more,  Piya ke milan ki aas O Nadaan Parindey Ghar Aaja. O soul of naive innocence, I implore you, fly back home. Why do you wander these dark, winding and lonely streets of foreign lands that have turned you into a  restless nomad of the night, defeated and bleeding from the flesh you wear? Come home, with the hundred wounds on your skin and every cloth of righteousness you own, torn beyond repair. For, no mat...

In the midst of all the crazed last minute decisions, playlist composition,  arrangements and general hyperactivity combined with anxious desperation to ensure perfection ensues-it's calm. Only because the sanctity of what is to ensue tomorrow is far bigger than music or floral arrangements can compete with. It's a union of two people who're taking the first step towards the intention of spending the rest of their lives in the companionship of one another. And as families will come together to welcome this sacred relationship into their fold of madness laced with dollops of love and warmth, I find my stomach fluttering and my heart beating a little faster as I close my eyes and smile, to the thought of my sister, the person I have literally grown up with, get engaged to the man she loves. I wish you wake up to cherished mornings and remember every moment of what's coming in celebration of the spirit of your bond, of the premise on which this is going to become an e...