Is it wrong if he doesn’t want to see a single speck in your eyes? Is it improper if he can’t bear even a slight quiver in your voice? Is it unfair if he wants to protect you all the time? Is it asking for too much, if he wants to share the pensive part of your life? If it is, then for him, I sincerely apologize. You see. My protagonist, He doesn’t know any other way to live, and love. ...
Sometimes I go back and read our old conversations. Not yesterday’s or last week’s, But at least an year old. And, I concentrate only on what you said. Just your texts. Your words. Your smileys. From them, I instinctively know what I would have said. I remember the exact words that made you laugh, frown, yawn or frightened. It’s always, almost like a pattern. As if that conversation was a game of ping pong, and I was playing on both sides of the table. ...
Why do I need to be happy all the time? All this running around after happiness is so tiring. So sometimes I just sit down and let myself be sad. I allow myself to accept that some things are not meant to be mine, howsoever hard I try to get them. I permit myself to feel my failures, I permit myself to feel my losses. And once in a while I let myself be sad without any reason at all. ...
I look at all these words written by masters, And they depress me more than they inspire. They fill me with self doubts. Would I ever be able to write something even half as good as this? Would someone ever love me even half as much as them? And what’s the point of writing? Everything that was ever to be said has already been said. Everything I ever write from today onwards would be a form of plagiarism. No idea is original. Not a single one. So why even try? Why keep excruciating yourself only to feel like a fraud in the end. ...
You might not comprehend it today, But one day you will understand, Everything I did, or said or advised or cautioned against, It all had a common theme. And that was to make you win. Win battles, win hearts and win life. You might hate me right now, because it all seems so selfish. Like I did it all for myself. But you are young, and self absorbed. When you will start seeing life in a more sober light, you will get it. And you will get me. That I was right. For both of us. ...
I don’t want to leave a trail behind, As we walk alone from nowhere to nowhere. I fear I might have to descend it back home, And you won’t be returning with me. Let me get erased with you, please. ~RavS
Listen, life is a board of chess. And while rules of the game remain simple, You lose time and again against more experienced players. But that does not make you a loser, that makes you a rookie. And you know what the advantage of being a rookie is? That despite all the mistakes, blunders, miscalculations and mess-ups, She still has the audacity to stand up yet again and try just one more time. ...
It wasn’t my fault, But I so wish it was, At least you could have hated me for the right reasons. (The last words.) ~RavS
Basically I am done with life, But life is not done with me yet, It yearns to unthread me, Then knit me again. And once it’s done, a kiss on the cheeks… “Good boy.” ~RavS
I left a little space at the end of the story , Not to suggest he might get reborn, But in the off-chance that you return, And put a leaf over his grave. So that he dies happily ever after. I like happy endings. ~RavS