Strange

WhatsApp Image 2018-06-02 at 10.17.34

 

You know what, no matter how hard you commit something to yourself, but you do change for the loved ones.

 

I hated two things.

One – People calling “baby” in relationships.

Two- People calling loved ones “bacha”.

And when I say I hated them, then believe me, I was a die hard hater.

 But now,

Because of someone, I’ve started loving the word baby like anything. It’s like now I crave them to call me that.

Because of my best friend, I’ve started loving the word “bacha”. She use to call me bacha. I use to kind of hate that. And now the scene is, I call her “bacha”.

 

I don’t believe at myself. It’s a change that was almost impossible to happen. But I guess you do change in love. And by change, I mean change for the good. Don’t you?

 

Strange. Isn’t it?

 

This is no poetry, prose. Just a random thought that I shared straight from my one note.

And also, I am finally back after months of inactivity due to cliché busy rat race life schedules.

Hoping to hear from you people.

Do share you thoughts and memories if any. 😀

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Agony Of Betrayal

Game of the deceiving life is such,299d5b25cf5f94a47fd6016fd4ff59f0

A man walking all alone on a deserted footpath into a dark lane, keeps walking, walks a distance, walks few steps more and gradually covers a mile.

He walks absolutely alone, all about himself with none to hold his hand. He puts his hand in the  pocket and continues walking.

On covering miles, accidentally he comes across another man of his kind. He finds a similarity, as finally he found someone just like him.

Calls him his friend!

Now there was someone to hold his hand. The walk continued…

Continued. . .550f325b4daf47370211dd4c6da80d92

Peace. . .

Friendship. . .

That loudness of the joint laugh, those dishes with a shared food in them, two feet on the footpath doubled to four gave a lonesome a partner.

But life never stops playing. . . The deceiving life is such that a man can’t bear the change. Unexpectedly destiny turns the tables all over. . .

Holded hand again went into the air and now even the pocket felt helpless.

Weight of lifting the hand towards pocket felt extremely heavy.

An unbearable pain it was. Pain of a betrayal and that too because of  a dear one. . .

The hand left in the air, struggling to reach the very pocket made the heart cry.

Heart cries. . .

. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

” If a spark begins to flare, then rain douse it out,c717f05ebb46bc38367551d1452b6b31

But if the rain is the one setting fire, who shall douse it?

When autumn uproots a garden, spring  makes that garden bloom

But the garden that withers in spring, who shall make it bloom?

Don’t ask me how the temple of (my) dreams crumbled,

This doesn’t concern the public, it’s the tale of ones dear to heart.

When some enemy causes a wound, then a friend heals it,

But if the close friend is the one inflicting a wound,

Who shall help heal?

There’s no saying what would have happened,

Or what would have I done.

I drink  so I’m alive,

If I didn’t drink. . . I’d die.

When the world makes you thirsty,

Wine quenches the thirst.

The thirst wine awakens,

Who shall douse it?

I admit,

There’s a little one can do against the storm,

But this is not the fault of waves,

It’s the fault of someone else.

A boat caught midseas is steered to safety by oarsman,

But the boat that oarsman sinks,

Who shall save it? ”

(A translation to bollywood song- Chingari koi bhadke)