Author Archives: Arun

Only if you knew how it hurts to look away every time we cross paths. I don’t care about small talk anymore. It’s all or none. Tried to take a closer look at the heart tonight and all I could see were tourniquets. And again, I looked away; continued my journey through the dark, towards nothingness.

The secret to happiness is to spot the sources of joy in life – people who care for you, creative satisfaction and appreciation for the beauty and diversity of life itself. Soon you will realise that the best things in life outnumber the unpleasant anomalies.

It’s not about who you are or where you are from, it’s about who you finally become.

It’s impossible to guess my limits. I’ve purged and re-programmed a new me so many times.

And once again I hear your voice close and clear… instantly disrupting the train of thought in my mind, reaching the depths of my heart I was convinced I had locked for good. One glance and I turned away, as if I haven’t noticed you. I can’t lie to myself, I did notice the soothing light-coloured fabric you wore, one that I don’t remember to have seen on you before. I try to cover the breadcrumbs of your fragmented memories inside me in vain, only to discover something new about you in every chance encounter – shards of persistent memories slowly draining me from the inside.

Anger sells. Animals sell.

Start a war to win, not to fight.

Foxes don’t respect the lion. They fear it. They get a piece of meat, they hide and eat it among themselves in the shadows. And the lion doesn’t bother about the foxes. It stays aloof, hunts alone. The lion knows it will always remain a villain in the stories of the weaklings.

No matter how much I try not to miss you, you keep stepping into my loneliness and my sadness. I struggle to sleep trying to submerge your memories like layers of translucent clouds screening the dying crimson sun. All my senses tell me I am long-forgotten, and yet they stay alert for one cue from you… or one sign of your existence from far far away.
Life mostly is about the impossible things or the long-longed pleasant things that never happen. And yet, I find it so hard to come to terms with that. Each time we met, I have glanced now and then on your face as if to engrave it in my memories. It’s insane… I don’t remember your face but I do feel the warmth of your presence once in a while. And it only makes things worse when I am back to reality. I hope by the next time we meet perhaps I would be able to erase you from my mind and not recognise you anymore.