This isn't a think piece or a ground breaking revelation. This is something that i have realized adds to overwhelm and (more importantly,perhaps) tells something about our impatient millennial selves. We postpone experience for discovery. Life for dopamine. …

All you have is you. It’s a cliche but you ARE born alone and would die alone, and hence, should live accordingly. It’s not about being selfish, or an asshole.. it’s about realizing that you live only for yourself. You are the only audience that matters and you are the…

The Witch. She kept mumbling things to herself throughout the climb. It was getting harder for her to see or to keep on climbing. What didn’t she do for the people of the village, she thought. Whenever it was a child with fever or an old man just refusing to…

After a while I started feeling that Mario Puzo really WAS my godfather. I mean I used the book as a stopper to stop the door of my room, which opened outside, from shutting down, on really windy days. And that guy on the cover, in a dimly lit room , I started getting a sense of protection from him. Like... like he'd be there if something were to happen. He'd stop it from happening. But of course I didn't really believe that. This thought just occurred to me once and it made me smile.. I wondered whether it was for real.. for like half a second. But I quickly shook it off. Sat down and phewed.. so this is how it happens.. I thought to myself.

Day 1 : I don’t exist anymore There are things that exist and then things that don’t. But then there are things that exist and then do not. This morning exists right now. But in a few hours it will stop existing. These things stop existing but for a shared contract between people, who keep remembering that these once did, exist. But everybody remembers something different. I remember you , like when we’d first met and you remember me as the guy who thought he’d be a poet someday.

He took a peek outside the blanket. For a moment he thought someone was sitting near the bed. It was the chair. He exhaled with relief. The clock kept on ticking mercilessly. Some window latch must have been loose somewhere. A constant struggling noise kept reverberating throughout the empty house…

Pitter-patter of the drops on tin, brought him back from the distant smoky land, the past. Pulling a curtain aside, he saw the small concentric waves on a puddle and knew his worst fears had come true. He was sad, and it was raining. With a deep breath, somewhere between…

A setting. Opening scene. Camera zooms in, noticing inane details. The pattern of rocks on the pathway and a few weeds growing near the sidewalk. Fluttering of pages in a book which the Protagonist is looking at. Camera zooms in to show his eyes which are looking sideways,downcast. A stubble…

The next train was being announced. Which, as always, led to a flurry of activity on the platform. It was the holiday season again. A lot of people in good cheer, spirits soaring. Walking with a swing in their steps and a song in their heart. …