Words do matter.

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent
about things that matter~ martin luther king
Words heal..
Words reassure..
Words express...

Beautiful Imperfections

Perfection doesn't attract me 

Broken pottery 
Dim star next to the brightest one in sky

There's an untold story everywhere 
I am attracted to the untold, unknown. 

The sense of discovering yourself.

I don't know why people say they miss college when they grow up. I think college is place where you are stuck for 4-5 years.

You meet new people in your first year, become friends, judge them and get judged.
Time passes with you still trying to fit in. But later somewhere in time you realize who haven't grown much individually. Even in final year you get commented upon for the things you were judged for in first year. You have this one image stuck to your face, to which people refer your present self to. After some time you yourself can't distinguish between that image and your own self.

When the time to seperate comes, you realize, the friends you made initially are still there but a lot has changed. Instead loving to stick together you now have to make an effort to be together, because you don't have much options anyway. Groups once formed stay more or less the same till the end.

I don't know if I'll miss my college 5 years down the lane. I can't miss some place that gave me no scope to grow. I might miss few little things. But neither the people nor the place itself. It's true you meet many temporary people in this phase. Some stick with you, others get away as soon as the phase ends.

For me life really started after the college ended. I met new people. With no obligation to be together, I actually liked spending time with a few of them. I grew here. I learnt new things, I experimented with life. I learnt how to indulge with my own self.
I, finally and truly, found myself.

Falling out of love

Falling out of love
It's wonderful.
Much like falling in love.
But with yourself.


Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.

Richard Siken