Delayed Success.

Failures have their way of sending you into a dizzy world of your own. All that confidence you were storing up can be deflated in no time. Failures can sink you down to level zero. I mean, jab lagti hai toh, more often than not, zor ki hi lagti hai. This intense feeling of dejection, hopelessness, and disappointment is heightened when everyone around you is moving at an astonishing speed. I mean, there is joy in celebrating someone else’s success but accepting your own failure can be very difficult. It’s not easy to accept, that maybe, just maybe, you lacked in hard work and sincerity and it wasn't just your luck acting out or was it?

Failures have known to mark their presence in your life strongly. You may not remember every little triumph but you surely will remember your downfalls. Optimists talk about turning your down-swings the other way around by learning from them and moving on. But it’s also okay, to brood over it for days and not letting that anger die.

It’s okay to not get out of your bed for days and sport that unkempt hairdo at work. It’s okay to hide yourself behind a book or a bush when an inquisitive aunty sees you. It’s okay to go watch movies alone in this time. It’s okay to sigh loudly. It’s okay to talk to a tree, they listen. It’s okay to open that movie folder in your hard disk and watch endless movies. It’s okay to make huge tubs of ice cream your best friend. It’s okay to not tell your whatsapp status your current mood. It’s okay to stand under the shower and cry. It’s okay to listen to sad songs and cry some more. It’s okay to think you are the biggest loser this mankind has ever witnessed. It’s okay for you to be hurting in your own weird way.

But the next step to this can only be, I mean, ONLY be, recovery. Now or much later, life HAS to get better, whether you want it or not. It’s easier to want it, of course. Failure exists so that the nectar of success feels sweeter.

I may have fallen down many more times than you, dug a deeper hole for myself each time even, cursed the good while the bad just grew each day, lived in the fear of falling down yet again but I promise to try again relentlessly, a little better than before, each time, everyday.

Here’s to bad good times! :)

Oh so cheesy!

The times when we would start our conversations after dinner and it would last right till our mothers woke up to do chores in the morning. 

When pinks and reds made me feel lady like, even in my sneakers and shorts..heart shaped everything symbolised love. 

When letters were written not because any war separated us but cause nothing was conventional about us anyway.  

When I couldn't stop giggling like a moron after a good time spent. 

When the visuals ran in my head in sepia, soon after. 

When I spoke to the clouds and trees and told them about my heart flutterings.

When I'd run my fingers on your hair and mess up the already messed up hairdo. 

When your things became my things. And by then my things were already yours. 

When everything was thought of in a pair. Where every wish was asked in two s. 

When I'd lay my head on your chest, under that canopy of white sheets , this nincompoop of a world made sense. 

When your scent lingered long after you'd gone, seeping into my very conscience. 

When our toes were perfectly entwined in each other's, the winter would envy us. 

When our lips wouldn't depart. 

When we shared a silence so beautiful that words couldn't muster up courage to break it. 

When I couldn't help rising in love with you.

Phool de ke dekho.

Flowers are sinful in a way. They come to you fresh, each second getting closer to their inevitable, early death. In between, they bring that whiff of love that transports you into a better mood, a blithe one. You smell and you smell, the scent lingers on but you can't get enough of this sweet intoxication. The colours maybe as bright as sun or as pale as snow, you can see different hues of it, somewhere missing the intensity and somewhere just delicately touching upon it. You fall in love with the exquisite colour palette, slowly, petal by petal. The uncut, overgrowth of leaves adds that required tint of perfection to this marvel. A little mess is alluring, no? Then ofcourse, the thorns are clipped off or are neatly wrapped around but once in a while it hurts you and you realise, why these things are so beautiful. Everyone deserves this indulgence.