The stages of Fading Away

And it begins, in the most enchanting way;

the doubts come first, because in this life something’s gotta give, can’t handle this much happiness ,can you?

Then the doubts turn into questions, always lingering on your mind, sitting on the edge of your tongue, and no matter what answers you get the suspicion never goes away.

Distance is the conclusion you can find, its temporary of course because you can’t survive each other, the forever type of love and such crap your mind feeds your heart, just to console it that nothing is going to change, this is a rough patch, you’ll get past stronger and more in love, as if that was possible.

The first three stages are gradual, slowly unfolding, and nothing you ever expecting, you take each stage as life hands it to you.

The last one is the hardest, hits you like a hurricane, right in the centre of your chest with no signs of injury. The final stage, goodbye, no more rough patches to go pass through, no troubles, no heartaches, no arguments, but no more him.

The things you thought were impossible, the challenges you thought would never come between you, the tough times we’d promised to get through; all of it mattered yet now it carries little meaning. Oh, how foolish are you to believe life won’t shower its sweet wrath on you?

It was irony at its best, you singing songs about forever, and me,writing about us thinking that our story once written would be eternal, penning us together would bind us as one, forever.  Oh what a foolish world !

Even the best of us can’t escape this mirage; making sandcastles look like fortresses of stone. A weak wind, a touch of hand to make it all disappear. Did we really mean so less to each other?

So many questions, no answers, wonder if you now have a problem with my inquisitiveness too. But I never intended for you to answer, for answering them would make it all real. So I sit down with my thoughts that tainted by the memories of you, me and what could’ve been.

I remember it as it were only yesterday, when I’d run to you to share even the tiniest moments of my day and you telling me how when you something beautiful, it reminded you of me. I never told you but those sweet little things you did unknowingly and unconsciously had the power to fill my darkest days and stormiest nights with light.

And now? now the only thing that passes between us is time. I wonder where it all got wrong isn’t love supposed to stand by it all?

And even right now as you read this, I know you’ll think that I’m writing this because of you, thats how little you know me now, because I write this all for my own sake.

My mind simply can’t accept this abrupt change, it needs to know the exact moment this storm began, what was the catalyst? could i have done something to prevent it from happening?

Oh, how there’s beauty in even the cruelest and heart shattering things, because after all it began in the most enchanting way

and then it just faded away!



  The cursed lovers

To the cursed lovers,

Lets cook up a fantasy tonight,

Albeit only for a little while.

Let us hold it close to our hearts,

Let us not glue together all the pieces of us that were long broken apart.

Tonight, just for mere moments,

Let us not focus on the pennies or cents.

Count the blessings that we’ve got,

For the world is not known to give us a lot.

The soothing atmosphere,

As I hold my loved one near,

Whispering sweet nothings into his ears,

Wishing both of us could just stay here,


Alas forever is a concept unknown,

 Can’t find it within the laptops or phones.

Try as hard as you might,

These moments are inevitable to take flight.

But darling don’t forget,

Life is too short for regrets.

I’m lock with no keys,

Yet somehow you manage to open me.

Fool around, take the lead,

For you I’ll gladly bleed.

That’s the thing about a fantasy,

Anything and everything occurs with such ease.

We runaway to places we can’t even see,

For a while we just let it be.

As the fantasy is about to end,

We realize we have so much to mend.

The broken promises ; still unfulfilled,

The hollow words that had me thrilled.

Then sets in the calm,

Just before the harm.

The reality begins,

But we never do.

Finish the unfinished tale.

​In the movies and books they glorify and sugar coat the whole romance.

They depict one sided love with such creativity that it appears to be magical.

But reality sucks.Thepossibility of the other person liking you back is slim to none.

They show it as if the other person is your best friend ,ever present for you, making efforts as much as you make or even more than you. But that’s the thing you see, in real life it can never be like that.

In the movies they get scared thinking its only one sided , scared of getting hurt when they love each other and there’s no doubt they’re meant to be together.

The mundane life is far from this cooked up fantasy. You can’t separate emotions, you make all the efforts in the unrequited love , you are happy getting even a small portion of their attention, you mistake it for something else, something meaningful, deeper . You’re so blinded by it that you fail to see that you’re just 1 of the 100 hundred girls.

You open up ,share feelings and your every thought; in return hoping for the same, and getting even a chink is a victory for you.

You compromise when there’s nothing to be compromised. It sucks,big time.

So let it go.

Move on.

Believe in yourself

You are worth more than you think.

Don’t change or compromise for anyone.

The right person , if there’s even one , will come along and appreciate you for you !

Life is too short for living in denial.

I look at him and get the same feeling you get when you look at artwork.

The yearning you feel to glide your fingers across the panels, to feel the stroke of the brush.The aching feeling  inside you that make you want to feel the texture of the masterpiece.  You want to hold it close to your beating heart, wishing that all the emotions of the artist will come flooding into you somehow, as if each thought will come pouring in; perhaps they’ll even seep into your bones and stay right within you.

You just need to touch it.

But at the same time there is the fear.

The lingering feeling that bothers you. The fear that your touch will harm the intricate design. You’ll taint the masterpiece because thats all you ever do. Destruction is all you’ve ever known.  Your life is a mess and you loathe it too much to bestow it upon anyone else. The fear binds you, never truly letting you do anything fully.

So you admire the art from afar, never gathering enough courage to near it, ignoring the ache that builds inside of you.

You foolishly convince your heart, believing that you were lucky enough to have at least seen it, content with the fact that even being in the same vicinity as the artwork as an achievement in itself .