The little things that leave a mark forever...!

- Saw an old man buy a wooden walking stick... the money that he counted out was in ten's, and seemed like they had been saved for this purpose specifically. He kept looking at the stick as if deciding if it was the right one. Confirmed again from the shopkeeper about the wood type... His eyes had a forlorn expression, the way he looked at the stick, it touched me, he seemed sad... Finally he put the stick down, shifted his frail body's weight on it and walked on. The new phase in his life began right there. He bought himself a new companion which from then on will accompany him forever.

- Went to Rahat bakery twice over the weekend and saw toddlers driving their parents CRAZY... mostly fathers, who appeared to be unusually calm about it all... Felt like shaking a few and get some sense into them.

- Across the road a pehlwaan (wearing dhotti and kurta with long mustaches)was pulling the rope at the end of which was big fat sheep who refused to budge... the tug a war was hella funny...

- A motorcyclist slowed down to hold the hand of a cyclist and then drag him along, saving the cyclist from paddling for a few minutes... there are still some considerate people left in this world :)

--- the little things that make you smile :)

Confessions of an addict..!

So they say I am an addict... book reading is an addiction... I’ve been accused of interfering into other peoples lives, which is what book reading is... Reading about other people, indulging into their private thoughts, judging them on how they live their life, making statements about their characters... so I like to sneak into other worlds, in other peoples lives... Worlds that are so different from mine, yet others that I can so relate to...

I don’t say that out though, I don’t admit that I look for solutions of my life from these stories... I am a coward who finds recluse in other people’s lives, a thief who steals words from books and apply them on my life… sometimes it works, sometimes they don’t and at others they just keep collecting at the back of my memory to haunt me of what I could have said and done.
I do like to know about other peoples lives… I don’t like to interfere but I am the most avid listener you can wish for… I love stories. Particularly attracted by the way they are told or the way or the way they are written. The twists and turns, the spur of the moment action, the decisions and the failures, the love found and lost, isn’t it all just amazing!

That’s life, different for everyone. And it’s beautiful. Be it tears of joy or failure, be it the love of your life or the lust followed by jealousy and more evil… its life and its beautiful… how I always want to live in stories… in other people lives.. How I’d like to be invisible …

Oh the thought, being invisible… that is one super power I’d love to acquire… be where no one knows I exist. See what many are keeping a secret, experience the thrill that many seek alone. Anything to be away from my minds evil grasp, away from the ‘What if’s’, anything.

Being in the real world, accepting the fact of not possessing any such power, I read… I pry into others lives, and I love it … …

So that makes me an addict?. Yes, so I am …so what … it’s a good addiction… not every addiction is bad… my argument: not every addiction is bad, it’s not harmful. I am not prying into real people’s life. I don’t investigate into private matters of anyone, be it my family or friends or just a stranger. I welcome any story and information being narrated to me but I will never force anything. So when I dwell into books its not personal, its not spying its not cheating. I read because it was written to be read in the first place so no one can really complain…

Phase...!

i am falling apart... i am loosing my composure... faith is what i am holding on to... rest is all bleak... i don't want help, i am not looking for solutions. this is a sweet revenge with myself, this pain is addictive, the tears comfort me... they take out all the hatred within me... i feel my head is going to explode, my brain has dried out, i want to sit in vacum and not see anything, i want silence, i need silence... i need to listen to my inner voice, we have to sort out things, me and my inner self.. i don't know if its love that's torturing me or is it that i cant hate the way i want to... i am drifting away... from my family, from my friends... from all who matter... nothing really matters anymore... i don't know what i am supposed to do... or i do but i don't know why i aint doing it... maybe its just a phase... it sure is a long one...