, , , ,

Things changed the day you walked into my life. A writer who could have thought and imagined of anyone while reading or writing, went through a change, an unexpected change to be precise. 

The cheesy ones stopped seeming to be cheesy. They reminded me of the silliest moment we spent together. 

The stories ending up with death scared me, the fear of going away from you was so deeply instilled in my heart. 

The love stories, they made me think of you and me and a future, however distant it seemed. 

The erotica, they did their best too, made me think and crave for you like never before. They made me go weak on my knees by thinking of your touch and breath on my skin.

You changed me, girl, and you made me yours the moment you walked in.



Hello Everyone, I’ve started a new section in my BLOGOSPHERE, that of Short Stories and Nano-Tales…

Every week I’ll be uploading one of these stories or tales here… Hope you’ll enjoy it… All types comments, reviews, suggestions and criticism is welcome 😊😊…

Love and Regards – K@ 😊❤



, , ,

​I am not a writer, but I wish I could translate my emotions into a soulful array of words, squeeze out the feelings surging in my heart into a blank page and endow it with life and unstructured consiousness.

I am not a writer, but I wish I could hold the rage simmering inside me with my magic wand (which is my pen, ofcourse) and fill the blank pages with words of fury, as is the case of fires and storms, and animate it with an exaggerated zeal and a tyranny so fierce that it would threaten to destroy every heart that reads it.

I am not a writer, but I wish I could fall for words, flirt with the lines of compassion, make love with the language of romance and be in relationship with a work of literature.

I am not a writer, but I wish I could play with words, entangle them and create mysteries which will leave the world bewildered.

I am not a writer, but I wish I could explore this world just by sitting in a corner of my room with a thought so great and an imagination so creative that it would surpass every other feeling that comes in the way.

I am not a writer, but I wish I were one.

I am not a writer, but I know that wishes do come true and someday, mine will too.


That Separates Love from Loneliness


, , , , , , , ,

To that lunar beauty,

And oh! Soft- vacant lips

A gesture of love-

The never forgotten secret kiss,

The future and the day after

Of love and loneliness

Seals the prayer of closure:

An organized mess


What would you call the petal-less beauty?

Plucked and plucked again to please your hopes.

What would you call smirking at couples in public

A lovelorn myth… loss?

An ode to the lunar beauty again,

That I never was for anyone.

Ode to the sillage of you that I love,

Which never really had you stunned


Would you call it a Petrarchan rage?

Of sitting on the single’s bench, as a couple

Or maybe that solitude of “an artistic guy”,

Who sits alone with a notebook at a couple’s table.

And I write something alone now.

My love: the dichotomy of being together yet alone.

The space abundant, yet so compressed,

The silence we exchange… they’re impressed!


What love do we share?

When there are no gazing and occupying of the corridors.

We eat alone sitting at the same table

We choose to walk with our friends instead,

Lack of amour?

And I am sitting at this foundation,

“Spirituality”, “cleansing”, “inspiration”

I don’t understand many of your emotions,

And your listless, wandering notions,

Your pessimistic potions

But I pause, I pray, and I praise.

And hope that I would one day see the line,

The line I never wish to erase.


I, perhaps, will be reminded, “Oh! What a gem of a person!”

Yet all I wish, and plead, and pray for is

To not see that line that separates us like darkness from that crescent-shaped peek

But the line that separates love from dismay,

Of solitude, both you and I were brought up with,

Of solitude, now your sanctuary, my misery

And yet I understand and love each of this,

But I need to, damn, I need to

Separate not us,

But love from loneliness.


I Wasn’t Drunk When I Called You the Other Night But I was Definitely Something

Here where I am, the stars cluster like grapes.

This is why the dust from the shooting ones graces the sky

with the colors of wine.

When I was a child, my mother used to read me the backs

of Band-Aid boxes instead of lullabies or fairytales before bed.

Even now, every dream still feels like a wound;

maybe that’s why whenever we slept together

I woke up with stitches in my side.

Here where I am, all the psychologists claim

twins separated at birth will still be able to recognize

their lost siblings’ voices ten years later

amid a crowd of millions.

I’d still recognize your cells hidden inside my body

years later during my own autopsy.

I’d rise from the table just to run my fingers

through your DNA like beads one last time.

All our best & worst dates involved standing on the Golden Gate Bridge

and watching the ghosts of 27 people jump to death

from the railing, wishing we could save them.

Now when I dream of you pressing your mouth

to my collarbone I rise from bed out of habit,

unbundling my nerves, unsheathing them,

waiting, like all 27 ghosts teetering on the edge of the bridge,

to disappear.




, , , , , ,

A loving letter to the friends who standwith us in our hardships, cry with us in our pains and laugh with us in our joys…

Coz This I Owe To My Friends😉😊!!

I’m generally a cheerful person. I’m usually full of love, life, and happiness. I open my eyes in the morning and feel excited to be alive.

There was a time, though, when it wasn’t so easy. When blinking and breathing and speaking all took so much effort that I thought I may as well give up: I was in a dark hole of sadness and anger and confusion.

I didn’t think I was gonna make it, but you did.

For the friend who stood by my side through the storm: the one who held my hand and never let as much as a finger untie from our grip, the person who could see through my darkness when I wasn’t able to.

For the beautiful soul who believed in transformation, who believed in healing, and time, and growth. Who never once judged me for my heartache, grief, and anguish.

Who, when the world was torture to live in, gave me a piece of hope, a breath of fresh air, and a tiny scrap of faith that things might begin to change.

For the friend who was delicate with their words and capable of pushing me forward. Who didn’t mind coming to join me in the dark corner, who actually came and sat with me for a while.

You endured my aching mind, heart, body, and soul. You crawled inside me and frantically looked for the broken pieces that I couldn’t find myself. You pulled me through an impossible tornado that I thought was going to eat me whole.

You loved me at my worst. You never gave up on me. You saw through my opaque pain.

You made me smile when I couldn’t do it myself. You spoke words for me when I was lost. You looked me right in the eye and knew that I wouldn’t be like this forever.

You knew. You waited. You never left.

Dear friend, Thank you.

Your Lifelong Buddy,




, , , , ,

Dear Friend,

We have come along way, we’ve grown up, changed,had fights, lied, and probably everything anyone could think of. But there’s a reason why we are friends.

You’re always there for me when I fall, and always know how to make me smile when I’m down, it’s the little and simple things you do to make me laugh, just know that I will always be there for you and will always be the shoulder to lean on, if you need me I’m just a phone call away. I got your back and you got mine that’s why we’re best friends.

The day I met you

I found a friend –

And a friendship that

I pray will never end.

You never ever judged me,

You understood my sorrow.

Then you told me it needn’t be that way

And gave me the hope of a better tomorrow.

You were always there for me,

I knew I could count on you.

You gave me advice and encouragement

Whenever I didn’t know what to do.

There were times when we didn’t see eye to eye

And there were days when both of us cried.

But even so we made it through:

Our friendship hasn’t yet died.

Circumstances have pulled us apart,

We are separated by many miles.

Truly, the only thing that keeps me going

Is my treasured memory of your smile.

This friendship we share

Is so precious to me,

I hope it grows and flourishes

And lasts unto infinity.

Our friendship is one-in-a-million

So let’s hold on to it and each other.

We cannot let this chance of pure bliss fly away

For there will never be another.



, , , , ,

I’ve always been the strong one. When everything goes wrong, I’m always the one that tries to make everyone feel better. No matter what the situation is. I’ve always been this way. Never let anyone see me cry. They will think I’m weak. I have to be strong. Even as a child. Growing up the way I did was hard. So hard. But I handled it. I stayed strong. Like I always do. I’ve always bottled the emotions. Wait until no one is around to let them out.  It’s as if my catch phrase is “I’m okay.” And I always say that because I know that no matter how I feel at the moment, I will be okay. I don’t have any other options.  I have to be okay. I always have to be okay. I can’t be weak. I can’t be fragile. I can’t be afraid.  I have to be strong. No matter what. This is how I’ve lived my entire life.

But now… After this… I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t. I tried so hard to stay strong. But I couldn’t fight back the tears. So I ran to be alone. I couldn’t let them see what they’ve done to me. Run. Cry. Even if only for a minute. Then put on the strong face again. Because I can handle anything, right? At least that’s what I thought…. It’s been days now. I can’t keep hiding these feelings. I feel like I’m bursting at the seams. So I wait until everyone is asleep, and take a shower. No one can hear me cry or see my tears under the water.  I don’t know what else to do. I’m trying so hard to be okay but, I’m just… Not. I’m terrified. I’m angry. I’m crushed. I’m falling apart. I’m not okay.

~ Just Another Broken Soul.



, , , ,

*10 Things I Have Learnt About Life In 20 Years Of My Existence*

1. To be or not to be, is an easy question. Who to be, what to be, when to be, why to be, where to be, and how to be — these are the real questions. You may not be able to have a control over all the answers to these questions, but you can always control at least one answer, and your life will be decided on the basis of what you make out of it. 

2. The purpose of your life can be anything you want it to be. And, if you can’t find anything, let it be to create value. To accomplish something. Life is like a balance sheet. The world doesn’t owe you anything, nobody owes you anything, and you don’t owe anything to anyone either. There’s no profit or loss to be made here, except for the good or bad deeds you have to your name. You can either be an asset or a liability to the world, depending on whether you contribute any good to the world (even as little as making someone smile) or bad. It’s okay if you don’t do any good, as long as you don’t do anything bad, but if you do something bad, ensure that you do something good to rectify it. 

3. You can’t expect everybody to understand you when there are days even you don’t understand yourself. You’re not the same person you were years ago. We keep changing with every new ideal, belief, and piece of information we accumulate. And, if you aren’t changing, you probably aren’t growing, either.  

4. Your love cannot make people love, stay, or change. And, it is not your responsibility to make anyone change either because you can’t. I have heard too many people saying “I thought I could change him/her/them,” who end up paying for it themselves. Whether the other person will change or not for the better, you will end up changing for sure and it will be for the worse. People are not projects you can work on.  They are as free as you to do what they want, love whom they want, change if they want, or just be who they want to be. The only person you can change is you. 

5. You can only save others if you save yourself, and you cannot save those who don’t want to be saved. Some people are just too content being miserable and wallowing in self-pity because it is easier for them to cry than trying to smile.  You aren’t giving up on them, you’re just letting them be. 

6. There’s only so much your brain can remember. So, you can choose to fill it either with the good memories or bad memories. It’s difficult to forget the bad memories but it’s more difficult to remember the good ones.  So, make a note of the good on paper or wherever you can before they vanish from your mind and whenever you find yourself drowning in bad memories, you can always come back to the good ones. 

7. Learning to savour sadness is an art very few can master. You can go through life carrying all the hurt and pain within you or you can let it go. Letting go is difficult but not impossible. Our brains are conditioned to focus on the bad more than the good. Rebel against that conditioning. What you choose to do with the pain decides the kind of person you are and will be. You can allow it to make you weak or you can become brave. You can allow it to make you bitter or you can make peace with it and choose to channel that pain into becoming a better person. 

8. Belief in yourself is all you need to survive in this world. Don’t believe the naysayers, they aren’t living your life, you are.  Make it worth your while. 

9. Whenever life gets too difficult, try to think of it as a story or a movie. A movie which has a happy plot without any twists or turns will get boring, and nobody would want to watch it. And, it is not necessary that the movie should have a happy ending. But, even if it has a sad ending, it should be a movie worth watching. Even if you have nothing else to live for, live with the curiosity to know the suspense of what will happen next in the story. 

10. There’s always a way out. It may be hidden in the darkness at times but the sun will shine again. And, sooner or later, you will find your way again.