Tag Archives: live


“I love you.” 

Right now I’m not sure if I do anymore, but I say it anyway because it’s all that I am. I can’t remember what you look like very clearly, or even recall the sound of your voice. I’m not the same person you left and you’re not the same person I love. I love you in a way that you’re my whole world yet I would rather not feel like that ever again. 

But I know I love you because that’s the only reality I’ve known. I know I love you because I can’t love anything else. I know I love you because you’re my whole life, even if you’re not in it. 

I know that I love you. 

I find it comforting to hold on to this fading emotion because I know what it feels like and who isn’t a sucker for familiarity? 

*picture credit I’m not really sure about, it’s just a picture I found in my archives.  All credits go to the original photographer, not me. 


Read, Write, Live

You see, I’m a loner. I really don’t appreciate it when I’m forced to make a conversation with anybody. I am, without a doubt, an introvert. That does not make me slow,egoistic,rude, or shy. I can insult the hell out of a person when I want to. And I have, quite a few times, but only when they deserved it. I am not slow either. I’m not egoistic, I just don’t like people. I don’t like to talk a lot, so I write. I read. I do everything I can so I don’t have to talk. 

Another reason I don’t like to talk, is because I stammer. I stammer whenever I get too excited, or too low. That is not ideal in a 17 year old. Not here, anyways. I cannot go through a whole conversation without stammering quite a few times. I prefer not to talk at all.


So, I started blogging. I like reading, writing, trying to understand what other people go through. I don’t have anything to hide here. I feel more accepted as a blogger than I ever have in my life. I don’t have anyone to answer to. I don’t have to think three times before saying what I want. I can write whatever the hell I please, because I know no other way to express it. 

So, I write. I don’t type as often as I write. I write a lot. I write meaningless stories, novels which exceed more than 9 volumes. My hands hurt, my brain starts to explode with ideas and I have to pen them down. I cannot rest until I’ve finished a certain part of a story or a novel. I’m restless when it comes to writing. Maybe that makes me a geek. I’m more than happy to belong to that category.

I read a lot, too. Blogs, articles, magazines, books, you name it. I read anything that catches even a hint of my interest. During my summer vacations, I read 7 books. I read God-knows-how-many blogs. I read every Reader’s Digest I could get my hands on.

Because when I’m in a dilemma, the people who accuse me of being an egoistic person aren’t there. My knowledge from reading and writing is. If being an introvert means that I’ll have more time to read and write, and so be it. Name me the queen of introverts and I won’t care. Because with people, I have to pretend. I have to act like I’m enjoying their company. I have to be someone I’m not.


With books, I don’t have a protocol. I can be myself and dive deep into that book. I have the liberty to judge the book and say it out loud if I don’t like it. I can praise it however much I want even if most of the population doesn’t like that book. Books make me feel accepted, like I’m a part of that story and not just an outsider reading it. People don’t. People make me feel like an outcast, just because I don’t talk a lot. 

I read secretly, and I write secretly as well. My family would turn hell over heaven if they came to know that I’m reading a fiction in the most important year of my life! Oh, no, sir! No daughter of my family should be caught doing so.

I don’t mind this being a secret. Because that gives me inspiration. Well, it also get the people off my back who want to read everything I ever wrote once they come to know that I write. I hold up a Accountancy book as a cover and read my novels in disguise, if that’s what I have to do. 


I could live in a library. I can stay there, submerged in a book, until I really have to go. There’s this aroma of a new or an old book, that makes me feel like I’m in the seventh heaven. 

Reading and writing keep me sane. They keep me going on. They let me all the way in. They lay themselves out for me. Call me insane, but I’d choose reading and writing over my favourite person any day!