A Vintage Print

I'm a firm believer that we meet people for a reason. Sometimes, quite simply they are lessons. Other times, if you are lucky enough, you find companions for life. You are one such person for me. We started out as strangers and now we are best friends  I'm not going to bore you with the details, but I'm grateful for the patience you have shown me over the years. For not telling me I told you so, for resisting that urge when I went ahead and made my own mistakes. For listening to me rant for hours, crying  out in the process. Mostly, I'm thankful that you are just there for me.  You have made me see what I have missed, focusing too much on the grays and not enough on the colors. Making me realize that there are very few things that a long bath and a good sleep won't fix. For your unending optimism and positivity that shines through in your words, for the amazing person you are, thank you! I'm not going to tag you here and turn this into another cheesy post. You k...

Hearts don’t have windows. You can’t look into someone and peek into their soul that easily. You can’t look at someone and think you know them. You can never know them.  You can’t peek into a conversation and try to find the connection that you want. There is not a single person who would want to be with you if you force them to. But connections are under-rated. They just walk up to you with a hesitating question and a half-smile. They crawl in your phone with a ‘Hi’. Connections sing to you from neighbouring balconies and sometimes tease you with your fears. They come to you with common hatreds and music tastes. They are not an accessory that you can build with a string and a few beads. Not a luxury that has its owner relaxed and privileged. You don’t appreciate when you have them. You need space. Space is another luxury that convinces you that you’re sensible enough to handle yourself. It’s an illusion and when that turns to loneliness, you can’t hold your own hand and see your o...

These trains keeps coming and going and the only constant I see are the tracks. Two parallel lines that never meet and they're the thing that is always there. The people keep rushing and the rats keep hiding. They don't know how the trains move. The intricate network of the lifeline. The vendors enter the train and chant their songs to the ladies. The eyes of their kids are silent. They haven't learned how to speak up for themselves yet. The one-hour commute has convinced me that the world keeps moving. If you fall, if your bag does or your child does, people keep moving and nothing comes in their way. All these lives combined in a web of stories that no one is willing to listen to. They're scared to find more people living the same stories, or maybe worse ones. So many people going to so many places to do so many things in a huge city and I spent last night thinking about why I don't feel like myself lately. The Universe is a vast space and my thoughts are a...

Our story is a simple collision of our hearts and it started years ago and will end years later even if we just met yesterday.  It isn’t a story about the entire universe making us meet at a random café. It isn’t a blind date gone good.  It isn’t a love song of how we will be in love forever. We probably won’t be. But that wouldn’t end the story. This story has not a lot of obstacles or prizes to be won. There is only one purpose and you and I come together for it. Only for a while. Only for a while, but you hold me with your tears and I stay with my smiles. You talk with your heart and I listen with mine. You hold me with a lose grip and I convince myself of your prowess.  It isn’t an adventure of how you saved me. Not where we are best friends first. Not even friends.  It isn’t a story with our lives guiding each of us to the other. It is only a line of strings pulling at you and yours pulling at mine.  We...