The Deranged Thoughts Of A Girl

He writes down the name of every girl he has fallen in love with. What a strange thing to do. For people like us, for whom love came like the showers in desert, so rare, using a pen and a paper to remember people was futile. We had them etched in our hearts. Too beautifully sculpted for eternity. I could sense pride in his eyes. I wanted to erase it. I told him there was nothing so precious about his little idea. He calls us rigid, too scared to open up, to fall in love, always worried about the consequences. He was right. I kept my silence, hastily thinking of ways to prove him wrong. He wanted me to talk. Not to listen, but to prove me wrong again and again. And I wanted to talk. But I wanted to listen more. So I ask him about the girls. His stories were exceptional. I didn't want to admit it at first, but I finally gave in. People like him, they gave it all. All of them, whole. The intense desire to prove him wrong turned to faint admiration. And within seconds, I started

Among all the wildflowers I have ever met, You will always hold a special place. Never would I be able to explain, The intimacy of our paper-thin encounter, And the glorious journey thereafter. I passed by you the first time, the second time, and well the third time does bring the charm. And then and there, I knew, I felt, The cluster of magic being added to our stories. As the day passes, taking back all the memories and regrets, Stripping us of all the miniscule moments of emotions, I still can't help remembering my life without you. Among all the wildflowers I have found in the wild, I hope you love the place you bloomed.

There are many moments in one's life that makes us realise that nothing will be the same anymore. The air you breathe, your own voice, your home, the sky, everything looks different now. It could be for better or for worse. And as a person, I keep these moments close to my heart. Be it damaging or enlightening, they always have a place. A place I visit often. The day was as boring as any day could be. Everyone moving on with their daily chores and conversations. The same faces I see everyday, I walk by everyday, only today I actually wanted to know how they were feeling today. I wanted to know whether they were happy or sad, anxious or relaxed, angry or monotonous. I wanted to know. Because I knew this day wasn't like the other days. At least for me. I could see him, cycling away, in front of me. I wondered whether he felt the same. I don't remember what happened that day. I think people lie when they say they can remember a day like they were living it today. A bl

If I ask you about your dreams, don't reveal them to me. I might steal it. Not the whole of it, but tiny parts of it. Parts you thought didn't mean much but was the very being of it. But if you ever let your guard down and ignore my warning, I would listen to you with an open heart. I would smile and laugh, sympathize and try to empathize, and maybe fall in love with your dreams. As much as I love big dreams, I have a soft spot for the small tiny ones. The tiny intimidate ones. And when I see you again, I would thank you for giving me a wonderful time. But you would never know why. I stole it from you but you would never realise it. The perfect crime. Someone once told me never write about people. People you love. People you hate. People you meet. People who just exist. It is too cruel of an act to suppress them within a bundle of words. Let the words free, let it emerge in the form of sound, let it hit the air, let it just be there. But I was scared. Words were my solace.

You didn't have to take me there but you did, Only because you wanted me to go through Everything you have experienced and lived. A selfish act of kindness. You knew it would break me so bad, Yet you smiled and held my hand. I could sense in your eyes a slight nervousness, Will you be able to save me after that fall? How could I pretend not to know ? I smiled, And somehow the grip of your hand on mine strengthened, Oh darling, please let me try, let me weep, Let me break my heart of mine once more. And when we reached, you set me free but I was hesitant, 'Go. I will stay.', you promised. I ran and I ran. When I came back, I could hear your eyes screaming sorry. 'Promise me a smile and the sea.' I pleaded. And you took me there without speaking a word, With every wave that rose, I cried. With every wave that fell, I cried. And with every breath of mine, I let the sea take the pieces of my past.

I try to find you in my eyes, What if they have lost their way And can't let go of my heart. I pray that with every tear I cry, I lose a memory of you. As beautiful as they were, They don't belong here anymore. I try to find you in every sleep I force, What if you had looked me in the eye When you said those words, Maybe they wouldn't have had a place to land, But they do, and it keeps wandering Bidding farewell to all others it meets on its way. And like a kite stuck on a tree, it prays to be freed by mere conscience. A lover's quest to prepare for another battle, With tales of pain and scars, And a slowly dying heart.

When the album named ''Too late" released, like any other fan, I too was excited to hear it. After all, there was something about the music he played. It was special because it just felt like home. And that was enough in a way.  When I played the new album for the first time, it all came rushing back. And before I knew it, I was crying. The story we, the audience, were a part of had ended. The story we witnessed and was excited for a few days had ended. The story we were curious about had finally ended. And it broke my heart. The curiosity that was burning in our minds after we left the concert only lasted a few days as there was no further news about it. And 6 months later, when the album released, the flame was rekindled but only to be stomped upon by the song's last line ' But by then, it was a little too late.' I had planned this for months. In fact, I was saving up for it. To sit in the front row to see him up close, to hear his fingers playing with