Think...

The most dangerous kind of acquaintance is a person without capacity to think, judge or decide.
He's like a loaded, malfunctioning, uncalibrated, direction less revolver in your left breast pocket.

Bliss

Just realized looking out at the rains....

I love myself the most....

and I get overwhelmed in my own company

With the warm smell of coffee around.......

All coloured up.....where's the Ganges

The green of childhood, the pink of youth
added the brown of the woman of the world,
The blue of the intelligent woman,
The grey of the undecided heart
Some pure white hidden somewhere in the grey
Added a dash of the purple of determined decision
Some golden of the glittering dreams of every woman
Some red from the past bleeding heart now clotted black
Again some purple of decision
Now all I see is black in the mirror
Trying to wash it off drenches my entire being with the overflowing black
Trying to hold on to the shining white at times sticking out from within
The white gets tainted.
And the new found coat of inncocent yellow is under the threat of turning all black
gradually from the seepage and surfacing and mingling of the deep ancient layers of black

Only way out is to close the eyes, take a deep breath and stay emeregd in quiet cool waters for moments, hours or even years till every colour is washed off
Till everything is so white that even the faintest of innocent yellow will stand out and stay there.

But where is that Ganges.... ?

This is all I can say ....

From where I am looking at it now, I don't know where to look to be able to see something. May be my life's going to be like a dream come true. May be my life's going to be miserable; but who can stop me from making it less miserable. I am not going to give up. I am fighting.

I hear and I listen too, but yes I want only to be heard not listened, so I talk and not speak.
I am going to fight with myself and the coward, the hypocrite in me, to earn every single penny that will help me earn, what people presume that I deserve, but I know within that I don't. Not yet.

Lover - the kite

Love as it stands today, seems to be like some affair which calls for the skills of kite flying. You use your brains, to let the thread loose at the right time and pull it tight at some other. Neither loose enough to let it fly away and slip through your fingers, nor too tight lest it snaps.

Can't we do without the threads and the maneuvering.

It is not the love I know; or had dreamt of as a growing teenager.

Is it worth it?

I would rather let the thread snap or slip through my fingers, if there has to be a thread at all