Titles win end games. But this one won’t!?

Reverse engineering works on most areas of life.

If you want to understand how Eiffel tower was built, start looking at its very foundation and work your way up.

If you want to learn swimming:
Start by wading through water; learn to hold your breath under water; then try to float; learn to glide;then try to kick, and so on. There’s a technique and a process to learning almost anything. So its only obvious, that one would try to break down the art of writing.

But can you teach someone to write?

What can be taught- What to write?
Or, how to write it?

Look up on the internet for writing advice, and it’ll start raining. Just like in the self-help section, you’ll find all sorts of advice for every logical/illogical problem the human mind could ever perceive.

Half of them are irrelevant, but it’s there.

When it comes to advice, we all are trying to sell our shit out there. We all claim-our shit is the best. 

Watch me. Learn from me. Register on my site. Sign up for my newsletter. Enroll for this course and I’ll change your life in 30 days. Read my so-and-so book on improving your personality.

Sound familiar?

There’re bad solutions out there. Half-assed solutions. Good solutions. Okay-ish solutions.

Someone may have spent all their life on a theory and it still may suck. Someone may have had a eureka moment in 30 minutes and had discovered how to resolve (Oh, I don’t know) Poverty.

Someone may have offered a solution based on what worked for them. Yet another may have done that based on what’d bring them the highest royalty.

Doesn’t mean only one solution works or none works.

Coming back to the point in hand, none of the solutions i came across really worked for me. Or worse, I couldn’t relate to them.
So, there’s a reason why I don’t rely on a ‘technique’ or ‘style’ or ‘process’ of writing.

What ‘makesyou write?

More often than not, the idea is a trigger- as a response to something I read, or watch.
Don’t get me wrong. It isn’t rage, or the impulsiveness to react, which brings forth the chain of thoughts.

Instead, the desire to dwell on them and the need to understand the reasoning behind, the desire to retrospect on our own perception about what why we see things the way we see them, is what it really is.

Good writing is a conversation.

The aim is not to flatter the reader. They our adversaries.

A good writing, challenges what the reader knows, makes them question it, and then tries to win them over.

Sometimes the work of an artist induces a dialogue within you. More often than not, the tone of the former sets in the tone of the latter.

I wouldn’t necessarily call this an ‘inspiration’; but rather a ‘voice’ you cannot easily subdue. (Depending on what you choose to do with it. Either you let it fade away with time, by never acting on it. Or, you learn to channel the energy into something else.
ex: putting pen to paper)

At times, an observation, a thought, an experience, urges you to write. This is where your unique tone sets in.

If you wanna play it with humor; laden with nostalgia; fill with sarcasm; churn philosophy in it; saddle with satire; sprinkle suspense/drama; bring in empathy/boredom
or, simply state fact-by-fact.

The game’s yours- however you choose. (Experiment with one, or all of these things. Why not?)

What do you write about?

A friend once asked me about the genre of my writing, After I’d explained her the plot of my book. (One, I’m yet to complete. It’ll be the project of the millennium, considering the time that has lapsed since I first started working on it)

Unlike books, blogs are multi-dimensional. One has the privilege to write about everything and nothing under the sun. (But we never really make use of it. Do we?)

Now, disregarding my momentary existential crisis over the question; the thing about genres are that, they’re pretty little boxes inside which plots (gigantic-shapeless- ambiguous-plots-like-mine) are stuffed in.

Sure. You can label it – realistic fiction or young adult or something else (Look up the genres and tell me if your head doesn’t start spinning looking at the sets and subsets of categories!) as you see fit.

But its simply the tip of the iceberg. Consider the Harry potter series:

It was a Children’s book, spun off on fantasy. But neither the prologue, nor the titles, or the cover of the book did justice to the worlds that were woven in those pages. They were simply selling points.

Anyone who’d put the philosophers stone back into its shelf (before the book was caught in the whirlwind of fame post the release of  movie) is someone I gravely pity. (including myself)

Imaginations cannot be categorized. At least it won’t be neat.

Genres, Prologues, covers, titles are simply selling points.

Even when you’re not judging the book by a cover, you’re judging the book by what’s on its cover.

Sure! Your choices are simplified, when 10 people have given their reviews about a book.
But, if you’re an old soul who doesn’t get influenced by pop-culture, you’ll know that  talent doesn’t always find popularity.

The Billboard hot 100 list that changes every week is based on sales, radio play and streaming. But how often have you heard a song on the list, that seems overrated? Popularity doesn’t necessarily guarantee quality.

There are artists, bands, writers, actors whose work goes unnoticed by mainstream media- EVERYDAY.

What is a writing style?

I never really understood this question; or the answers that arrive on the analysis of such a question.

The only thing I know is,

What you write and why you write it, almost always trumps how you write it.

When I’d first started working on the ‘project of the millennium’, there was one advice that I’d constantly stumbled upon. Avoid the word ‘said’ (like the plague) in your dialogues. Instead, use words based on the emotion and scenario. Using it constantly, was  (apparently?!) sandpaper to the ears.

Agreed. This became my bible. I spent better parts of my writing hours, using other dialogue words, since I’d moral issues on using ‘said’ even once, in a page.

The only thing that ever came out of it, was- Chronic over-thinking.

Bottom line: If your dialogues are getting crappier by the minute because of investing precious time in deciding what to use instead of ‘said’; Well, you know what to do here.

The best advice, I ever came across is this- When you write; write as though no one is going to read it. Write as though its just for you. But be a motherf***r when you sit down to edit. Cut down everything that does not belong in your piece. Write it word-by-word all over again- Even if you don’t change anything in the end.

At least, you’ll end up with a better understanding of the words that bled out of you.

Because, all through this piece, I kept asking myself- Why?

Why am I writing this?

Neither have I been writing for decades- to offer advice; nor have I had a Eureka moment or a ground breaking discovery in the recent past.

But this little voice whispered in me-

If you label yourself as one type of a writer, or hell- even one type of a person, what good are you to yourself? If you’re walking through life following every direction that is handed to you, how would you ever know the path that you’re capable of carving- all by yourself?

We tell ourselves stories about us. The narrative is always on. Sometimes, we are the victim; Sometimes, the unforgivable villian; Sometimes we aren’t good enough; and at other times nothing is good enough for us. Yet how often do we realize- we are not ANY of these narratives!

For almost a week, I was struggling to write an appropriate ending for this piece. It seemed hard, as though i was answering- what is the point of life? Nothing i wrote, felt right. I had it’s-fine-brush-it-under-the-carpet sort of endings, but they were as good as having none at all.

But at 5.30 a.m., as i was tossing and turning in the sheets- fully awake, but too disappointed to wake up, it hit me.

What did we come up with boxes, categories and labels in the first place?

To make the chaos seem bearable; organized; less painful to rummage through. To make us feel safe. Right?

That’s why we put people in boxes. If we believe that we’ve them figured out; if we believe that we’ve figured the answers to life’s questions, then we’ve nothing to be afraid of. Isn’t that the reason we go to colleges-get degrees, work in meaningless jobs, get into unhappy relationships with all the wrong reasons, buy houses and cars on mortgages and pay them for the rest of our lives and quit on our dreams?

We try all our lives to fit into these boxes, but we never ever really do.

So tell me, what is the point of these boxes when they do nothing but diminish you? What does that make you?

(I could tell you to get a large sledgehammer and beat the crap out of these boxes;  but we’d be straying here)

Maybe that’s the point.

We were never supposed to fit into boxes.

Because, in this wild-fucking-complicated-unpredictable-chaotic-universe, how can you expect that you be any less of that?

How can you?

On being a woman!

From the day she was born, till the day she dies, she serves a purpose.

As a child, she’s the giggling center to her parents, the candy keeper to her siblings.

A perfect wingman to her brother, a partner in crime to her friends.

Whether she’s lost in her own confusions or is knee deep in her sorrows, she can bring a smile to your face on any day!

You have shared your deep dark secrets with her, and have heard the lamest jokes from her!

But, all the same, she’s the one thing on earth that gives “unconditional love” a new meaning.

She could be your best friend, your soulmate, your colleague, your teacher, your neighbour, your cook, your grocer, your doctor, your sister, your daughter, your mother, your cousin, your aunt, your grandmother, your partner or just someone you know!
You cannot define the relationship you have with her, because its not not bound to anything but it means everything!

She has made you feel safe, when she was terrified by her own insecurities. She has bombarded to with PDA’s when you were too awkward for it. She gives you the best advice when you’re broken, but also laughs as you slip and fall, just before giving out her hand to help you up!

She cooks you food, even if the only cuisine she knows is the “2 minute noodles”.

She has helped you complete your assignments and you have copied her answersheets, fearlessly in the exams.

She’s been your anchor, also the whistle blower for ratting you out to your friends or parents. She does this for fun! Surely, you don’t have a lifetime of scars due to it!

She gets lost and confused; she stumbles and falls due to her own decisions; she’s overwhelmed by shopping; and pleased by chocolates and icecreams;
yes, she’s complicated yet she desires simple things from life!

Yes, the laptop she wants as a gift is the red one, and the phone she owns is the white one with a gold button.

She makes wierd wishes before she blows out the candles of her birthday cake, she believes in fairytales or is too cynical about them.

She may be tough as a nut, or is too fragile!

She has a quirky sense of humor, and a terrible taste in choosing people! She makes a fool of herself every once in a while, she goes out of her way to make you happy,
she’s shy yet powerful!

She is a ray of hope and sunshine, but also hides in her dark shell on some days!

She’s everything, yet she sometimes feels like nothing!

She strives to be a better version of herself EVERYDAY!

She’s not meant to be understood, she’s meant to be loved!

She’s a woman!

Take the time to tell her, how splendidly, a fantabulous amazing person she is!

Be it to the person sitting right next to you, as you read this, or to someone who have known and adored for years, or to yourself!

Say it, say it out loud, because she deserves to hear it! TODAY!

Happy women’s day! ♥

Ladies! Here’s why y’all should get married by the age of 24!

  1. You’ve probably just graduated. Certainly you understand yourself a lot better than when you’ll do, when you’re, I don’t know- 28, or 41.
  2. It’s easy for your parents to convince you over the following ground breaking theories. Honestly, they’re fool proof.
    1. This-is-the-right-age, it’s good for you. Absolutely. All single men are simply going to vanish if you’re unmarried by the time you’re 28 or 41 or 65.
    2. Sharma uncle’s daughter got married when she was 23. Look how happy she is.
    3. Grandchildren! I mean, there are other ways to do this. But who’s arguing? Adoption. I was suggesting adoption. Don’t get your knickers in a twist!
  3. You haven’t fully explored your sexuality. You could be straight, gay, bi, Demi, Pan sexual, or even asexual. But hey, knowing what you like is so 70’s, right. Why bother?
  4. You’re at the beginning of your career ladder. It would be misogyny to assume that you can’t be a juggler. Personal life, house, husband, family, parents, in-laws, oh and what did I miss? Career. That’s right. Toss it in the air and catch it right back, or don’t. No one is going to send you on a guilt trip.
  5. Your biological clock is going to tick-tick-tick and explode. Late pregnancies are a myth, people. If you don’t believe me, ask Shilpa Shetty, Madhuri Dixit, Aishwarya Rai, or Farah Khan.
  6. No one would tug your cheeks at the next wedding, and shamelessly inform you (let alone ask you) – ‘Agla number tumhara hai beta…’ Bending over, due to social pressure is undeniably, a solid reason to get married.
  7. Traveling solo, playing in a band, getting a tattoo anywhere (anywhere!!) on your body, buzzing off on unplanned treks with your friends, volunteering for the peace corps, spending a year abroad, having wild adventures- we can do all of this, and a lot more, with the permission of…..wait, they’re all going to tell you it’s safe. Self-exploration is, after-all a prevalent job in India, with a 36% reservation, solely for women.
  8. Responsibility to yourself. It means, accepting the ‘behavioral manual for women’ handed out by every other person on the street. The authors are unknown, yet everyone is a contributor. From the sweeper gawking at you, when you’re jogging down the street; to the upstairs aunty who can’t even persuade her own son to return home, without reeking like the entire bar. And do I dare get started on the moral police, or the politicians who’ve found the fool-proof solutions to avoid rapes? People, who’re convinced that they’re a higher breed than women, sure are painfully afraid of feminism. Get married, get married, get married. It’s an automatic solution to all the travesties in life.
  9. Here’s a list of women whose lives have fallen into a swirl of misery, for not being married by the age of 30.
    1. Pooja Dhingra: Achievements? Oh, I don’t know. Best-selling books, innumerable awards, A-list celebrity clients, and a thriving business. How terrible!
    2. Zoya Akhtar: Do the movies Zindagi na milegi dobaara, luck by chance, or Talaash, ring a bell? Why isn’t anyone lecturing her to get married? Call all the aunties.
    3. Priyanka Chopra: I’m not even gonna…
    4. Barkha Dutt: A nomination for Emmy? A first for India. What was it all for? Surely, she should have listened to her parents at twenty-t-h-r-e-e.
    5. Ekta Kapoor: No, we do not watch her movies or long-running serials. Who has time for all that, whilst juggling our family, husband, children, in-laws, house, personal life…. Oh wait, what did I miss again?
    6. Kiran Desai: A winner of Booker prize? How is she ever going to face all that cheek-pulling at the weddings?
    7. Sushmita Sen: Good lord. Being jaw-dropping gorgeous at 41, holding the Miss. Universe tiara, bringing up two daughters all-by-herself, starring in hella movies must be a crime. Someone amend the laws. Her parents must be sighing for grandchildren.
    8. Mindy Kaling, aka, Vera Mindy Chokalingam: Starring in her own show The Mindy project, as well as others such as Ocean’s eleven, A wrinkle in time along with writing best sellers such as Is everyone hanging out without me, Why not me, must be horrendous achievements to bear.
  10. If you’re not yet convinced to get married right away, I might have to call the next door aunty to convince you.

Until next time,

The girl in the green shrug!

    Anything is to be preferred and endured rather than marrying without affection. – Jane Austen

    In the living!

    Did you know?

    Sirius is the brightest star visible on the night sky
    And humans are the only beings on earth
    who can smile & express emotions.

    You’re a child of this universe,
    As much as the trees & stars.

    We are the universe-living & breathing,
    As people, just for a little while.

    Do you wonder?
    If the trees know, that they’re magnificent?

    Do the dogs realize that they’re adorable?
    Just doing their thing.

    Do you wonder if the skies and stars,
    Are aware that they inspire poets and astronomers?

    Do you think that any other being on earth
    can look around & admire the wonders of this world?

    No! But we can.

    How many of us take a moment to stand still and watch the universe set in motion?

    When was the last time you watched a sunset with bright eyes?

    When was the last time you let nature take your breath away?

    When was the last time you let the light play with your shadows?

    When was the last time you let the wind whisk away the thoughts from your bustling mind?

    When was the last time you looked up at the night sky, and whisperedWow!

    The universe that we carry in us!

    Tell me, what is your story?

    You said that your life was simple, Almost boring!

    I know! I know of the world that you carry within yourself. A world full of wonders and chaos, of hurricanes and earthquakes. A universe of your making, adorned by your memories, fears, hopes and dreams, your quirks, things that can bring you joy, the waves of your grief, your sorrow, your pain.

    So, tell me all about them. What sets your soul on fire? What makes your eyes glint with passion? What makes you nerves tick? I don’t want your hello and goodbyes, the obligatory small talks about the weather and people. I know you have deeper oceans, in which you try to stay afloat.

    So, let’s skip the pep talk, and dig deeper.

    I want to know your dreams, your fears. I want to see how silly can you get?

    I want to know the threshold of your pain, your patience and your desire. What pushes you off the edge?

    I want you to explore your world, fearlessly, as much as possible. I want your madness, your anger, your pure stupidity, your lame jokes. Talk to me about your deepest fears, your nightmares, your passion, your first crush and your last heartbreak. I want to know the extremes of your nature, the silence of the calmness that lives within you. I want to see every hue of your being, your torn edges, the incomplete dreams and the broken promises.

    Talk to me about all the glances and the smiles that made you swoon and made your heart skip a beat, about the unrequited love, about disappointments, your wishes and imaginations. Tell me about your 2 A.M’s, the persona’s you blend into (heaven knows, we all have one), the unspeakable, foolish things you’ve done or plan on doing. Let me in, into your deep darkest worlds.

    Unearth all that you are, I want to drown in the depth of your oceans. Don’t hold back the storm that you are, because I am not the one who runs for cover when it thunders!

    So I ask again, what is your story?

    Among the stars I lay my heart!

    City lights they shine, like fireflies in the night sky.
    Spread across a land afar, so distant, as we look by.

    City lights glowing like dreams turned into stars on earth. Every house has one, a dreamer, a fearless soul, whose mind wanders among the clouds, while his feet grazes the earth.

    She’d said, that a star was born with the birth of each one of us. And I always searched the night sky, to find out which one belonged to her.

    I believe that our stars glow a little brighter with every new dream.

    The night sky is glowing, like city lights down here on earth. With each star burning brighter, I wonder if right now, someone is gazing at the same stretch of sky, thinking of the same things as I do- praying for all the second chances that I lost in vain, looking forward to all the memories that I’ll make.

    Maybe the stars remind us of people we’ve lost to this world, the love we had to sacrifice, or the promises we made. Maybe the stars makes us believe in a life that is so beyond our control, a life that is mesmerizing and miserable all at the same time.

    The star that was born millions of years ago, whose light still reaches me, will cease to exist in a few years, or maybe it would shine upon another dreamer a hundred years later who would think of the same things as I do now.

    The possibilities are infinite, but it makes me wonder.

    “How do you go on after a heartbreak?” he jerks me out of my thoughts.

    Its a night out, a stag party in the middle of the woods, yet here I am, muddled among menories and thoughts. My friends are swapping stories, of adventures and misfortunes, sitting around a bonfire, one guy is playing his guitar and the other is dancing drunkenly to its notes. The bonfire and the booze warms us, yet I feel cold on the inside.

    I’d never realised that our life was a jigsaw puzzle, completed by the pieces of the people we meet. Now I know, that mine will never be complete, for the center piece is lost on someone else.

    “Some day, we’ll meet, talk but not just speak, listen but not just hear. We’ll talk about the happy and sad memories, of the universes within us, of the lives we have built without each other. I know someday it’ll get better and someday it’ll hurt a little less  than it does now. We both will have a life that will be complete, if not perfect, someday it’ll be ok”

    Some day the star that was born with me, will burn bright again, with all the new dreams that I’ll dream of.

    The city lights are fading now with the wake of night. The stars will shine brighter tomorrow. Some will cease to exist, and new ones will be born.

    Until then, I’ll lay my heart among the stars!

    Before and After you!

    First impressions, a new world,

    I’m going to make it my own,

    Nervous smiles, familiar faces,

    Taking in everything in sight,

    Every breath and face, every sound,

    The whispers and chatters,

    The Click clack of keyboards,

    The buzzing telephones,

    I walk past them, wishing I’d disappear,

    Trying hard not to give into my fear,

    New people and possible friendships,

    All I need to do is reach out,

    My heart whispered to me “you’ll have a story”

    People turn around to spot the new girl,

    My eyes dart across the room,

    Considering each face, trying to figure out,

    Who’ll save me, who’ll cause the heartbreak,

    I’ve always been too easy for love,

    The first one to fall, the first one to ache,

    This time it will be different,

    Because I’m not the same,

    Until my eyes settle on that smile,

    Emanating from across the room,

    A pair of brown eyes, a kind face,

    Racing my heartbeat, warming my soul,

    This is my doom, this is my solace.

    You are the colorful spring,

    after a long grey winter,

    This time it will be different,

    And I’m not the same,

    For my life is split into two,

    The one before, and the one after I met you!

     

    Ten years!

    Ten years is an accurate time frame to predict your future, or to understand life in retrospect.
    Either ways, you can be sure that nothing would be the way you’d assumed.

    I can list a gazillion things that I didn’t see coming, change or fall apart 10 years ago. Probably only bits and pieces of my life are the way I wanted them to be, but I’m not the same person I was 10 years ago.

    I came across this question a few weeks ago “Are you living a life, that the 13 year old You would approve of?”

    I’m sure the answer to this would be a big fat NO in almost everyone’s case.

    This question brings a lot of our priorities into perspective. Is the life that we are living now really meaningful? Are we making the right choices.? Are we cherishing the important moments and people in our life? Do we take a breather, for just a second, to appreciate what we have, RIGHT NOW, at this moment? Look around, let it sink in; because nothing-NOTHING will be the same in a month, a year, a decade.

    This is as good as it gets!

    I agree that the 13-yr old me probably didn’t have a clue about life (well, I wouldn’t completely agree on it, because my experiences have shaped me from a very young age! Thank you Life!)

    Atleast, I get to blame all the crazy cuckoo things I do, on my experiences, and it has worked superbly well for me!

    You should try it too 😀

    Coming back to the topic, the 13-yr me old knew what the real pleasures in life were, she loved the little things that mattered, you see where this is going, don’t you?

    The 13- year old me was way better than the current-me, she was happy, fun etc etc, but was she really?

    Would you consider yourself to be naive than the 13- year old you? In some ways, yes!
    Our priorities gets mixed up, and we lose track of what’s important, what matters and what gives us joy! We endlessly chase materialistic happiness, money, jobs, people, ending up feeling incomplete. Oh! The misery of an endless rat race!

    But in ways, more than one, I like myself now than I did when I was 13. I’m not being an arrogant prude, but I didn’t know back then that big careers don’t bring happiness, or success doesn’t mean fat lumps of money, I didn’t know how painful a heartbreak can be, or that putting someone else’s happiness before yours does not make your life any better, I didn’t know that standing up for yourself or what you really believe in doesn’t make you a b**ch, I didn’t know that helping people can truly help me, but mostly, I didn’t know that my guts, instincts and all that mumbo-jumbo can be wrong!

    Let me tell you a secret! When I meet someone(for the first time or the hundredth time) I tend to pick up on things- every expression, involuntary action, the slightest alterations in the tone of your voice, the way you talk to/about people(welcome to the unbelievably f*cked up world of overthinking! We INFJ’s do know how to read people!)

    And almost every time I am right about a person. The margin of error is 1%, or more depending on how crazy I am about them.( pfff! I know how this sounds, but I belong to a  species who is dead sure about our predictions, because we heavily rely on our gut feelings)

    The point is, that the 13- year old me, would never accept that she could be wrong, and that people can change.

    She would’ve never known that the ones she loathed, would become endearingly dear, or the ones she’d trusted with her life gave up on her.

    Ten years is a long time for your world to come crashing down, for the seeds you planted on someone else’s grave to beautifully bloom, for your heart to break and to mend itself.

    Ten years ago, I would’ve never believed that I’d be attending a dear, adorable friend’s wedding, whom I’d clearly considered as my nemesis!

    Its funny how all the good traits of a person can appear ugly, if seen them under a bad light. When you loathe someone, you hate them for their negative aspects, but you also make the grave mistake of ignoring the positives ones. You never really get a chance to truly know them, to see what they can become, their interests, or what beautiful- crazy- whackadoodle- lovable things they are capable of!

    We build stereotypes without ever
    understanding what makes them the way they are.

    Bottom line: You and I, can be wrong.

    I happily admit that I was wrong, not once, but a dozen times, for believing that people can be just one thing- good or bad, interesting or boring, kind or ungrateful.

    We are complex. Every one has a reason to be sweet/arrogant/kind/ass/ unreasonable/ ill tempered.

    It isn’t your job to figure out the underlying reason, but it’s definitely your job as someone who’s not 13 anymore, to accept the fact that people fall on a wide spectrum.

    Nobody is just a one thing, the layers are infinite. And what they choose to show you, is totally upto what you to choose to see in them!

    People can surprise you, if you give them a chance!

    Buss! I’m happy that you proved me wrong!

    Happy married life, Love! 🙂

    Silver Linings!

    “The clouds! They are chasing each other. Look at that one, it is shaped like a heart, but with arms, offering a chunk of itself to that cloud, following it” Jake said, pointing to the sky, grinning ear to ear on his new found theory!

    It was a little before noon, on a warm Sunday in May.

    This was our tradition;

    On this day, every year, my little brother Jake and I would lay on the damp grass, next to each other and stare at the sky. We’d cook up stories about the clouds, the trees, the birds and the wind.

    The world would make sense to us with our stories and we’d let our thoughts float like the clouds!
    Jake and I, we were dreamers!

    “Look, you missed Mr. Heart’s teeny tiny legs; and it’s stretching out its hand for the other one to catch up!” I said. Proud of finding a loophole in his theory! Ha-ha!

    “Do you think they come back? After travelling all over the world, do the clouds come back?” He asked, searching the skies for other interesting shapes. Nothing yet!

    “Maybe they do, maybe they just disintegrate, you never know! It all depends on the humidity or temperature, I think” I answered, second guessing my reply.

    “I miss you guys! I don’t get to talk to you any more” He turned towards me, his face masking a thousand emotions that were bubbling up inside of him.

    “I don’t have a lot going on, I mean I have plenty of time now so I end up thinking about everything! All the things I should have done to make mom happy! All those times when I used to give her the cold shoulder when she wouldn’t side with me, or when we fought! I wish I hadn’t said and done those mean things! I should have been there for her, more often!” He continued, turning towards the sky, his eyes staring at the distant!

    “She was always on your side, Jakey! You both were on the same side. Words may have fallen short for her to express this, just as it was for you! She loved you more than anything, and that’s never going to change. I want you to remember that.” I took his hands in mine and rested my head on his shoulder.

    He let out a long sigh of despair! Sometimes there are no second chances in life! The words that go unsaid, remain locked in your heart, until the end of eternity.

    The way I know it, there is never a right time; you’ll never be ready if you wait for it! If you wait, you’ll probably carry all the unexpressed feelings to the grave! How foolish are we to spend our lives doing the things that don’t matter, but not taking a moment to muster the courage to express our love to the people who matter.

    “I am afraid, I’m losing my memories!” I whispered to him, unsure of myself.

    He suddenly sat up, and so I sat up too. His eyes searched my face for answers to the questions that his mind conjured.

    I shook my head lightly, when I ran the words I just said, in my mind. What a foolish thing to say, I thought to myself.

    “I feel like I don’t remember things about you any more, when I’m not here-with you!” I said to him, trying to keep my emotions in check, desperate not to sound as if my world was falling apart.

    “I forget how you sound, the tiny freckles on your face, the way you smirk when you have won the argument with an illogical but non-arguable sentence. You would act like the mastermind behind Troy! The way you would squint your eyes to look at the clouds, as if they were encrypted messages that you had to decipher; as if your life depended on it! I know these are small things, but they are slipping my memory” I blabbered like a talkaholic. It was beyond me to conceal the fears that haunted my mind.

    “Just the other day, mom was making red velvet cake and she said that you would have loved it, if she topped it with jellies. And I was speechless, because I couldn’t recollect if red velvet was your favourite! How could I forget that?” I asked him, exasperated at my own uncertainty.

    He tried to speak, but decided against it. Instead, he just smiled faintly at me; a sad smile! The kind of smile that you force on yourself as you talk about someone you once knew; someone you once loved deeply, who then turned into a distant memory!

    “I am scared that one day I may forget your face!” I sobbed realizing that it was a possibility! Time heals all wounds, but does healing mean that you forget the painful memories? The scars will always remind you of the wounds.

    The truth is that it’s never easy, for any of us! We are all lost, unable to stay, unable to move!

    I turned towards him, tears welled up in his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his “We’ll always have each other!”

    “Emma, honey, what are you doing here, all by yourself? Who are you talking to?” My mother walked up to me, squinting when the sunlight hit her eyes.

    I sat up straight “Nothing Mom. I was just watching the clouds pass by.” She helped me up and I dusted the grass off my dress as she looked around, her eyes searching for the unknown, finally settling on me.

    “You’ve got grass blades on your hair, what were you doing here any ways?” she brushed away the tiny grass blades off of my hair.

    I gave her a warm hug but she pulled back, a second later. PDA wasn’t really her thing any more. Yet, it was once; she once was an ocean of boundless love

    All the love in the world isn’t enough, when you feel broken!

    “Let’s go honey, we’re getting late to go to the orphanage; the kids must be waiting for us”

    I smiled, and followed her to the car. She got in, and turned on the ignition, waiting for me to get in.

    I took one last look around and got into the front seat, and we drove out the gates.

    A leaf drifted along the wind and landed on a tombstone.

    It read:

    “Here lies

    Jake Adams

    1999-2011

    I lived”