.. Something only gets better in the Rains

Something get better in the Rains... You may argue that this is the monsoon tag line for Essel World and Water Kingdom but hey I have never been to either of these places in the rains, in fact, haven’t been here in almost two decades. So can’t really say if they get better in the rains. Some may say making love gets better with the rains, but then I’ve never tried it, so have never known, but wouldn’t mind finding out (anyone up for an experiment???) What I do know is running in the park gets better in the rain.

Well it’s been pouring the whole night long so the park is all bright and clean, not to forget wet. The trees all bright and clean and green, dusting off the dust and grime accumulated through the extended summer. It finally feels like the Rain Gods took pity on us poor soul and decided give us the showers of blessings we need, respite from the heat and humidity.

Thanks to the continuous downpour, the dried up river beds now have a river flowing through it (and now you’ll have more morons in the parks coming to dirty and pollute it). The little rivulets running besides you, in all their gurgling glory, seem to be calling to you, challenging you to keep pace with them, like little fairies floating over them.

Thanks to the rains, the park is cool, not the sweltering pot of humidity that it becomes during the summer. The humidity is very much there (after all, there needs to be moisture in the air for it to rain, as explained to this dufus by Dylooo). Thankfully the heat is gone, in its place is that wet wet wet feeling. They say green relaxes the eyes, and here everywhere you look it’s pristine and green. So your eyes are totally, they are so relaxed that they are tired of relaxing. But the greenery is the sight for sore eyes (literally), as is the flowing stream.

You don’t need no music. Nature has its very own orchestra to make you run (and if you care to, dance) to its tune. The patter of the raindrops that keep falling everywhere, the gurgling of the rivulets, roar of the stream (thankfully not of the beast), the swishing of the breeze through the trees, the chirping of the birds, the croaking of the frog, the howling of the monkeys, the barking of the deer, and you splashing away through all the puddles (not wanting to run in the muck but risking getting your shoes and socks wet, as if they wouldn’t) all coming together to form their own tune, and nature conducting a multi-piece orchestra. And you can hear this orchestra in full flow if you listen carefully, over the din and chatter of your running buddies.

It may be raining but training still needs to be done, the slopes still have to be conquered, albeit the weather is much more pleasant from the last time you’ve run here. So you huff and you puff and you make your way through all the hill repeats at Kanheri, and the last time up Gandhi Tekadi, where you chance to meet a Neelghai, or two (for a moment I thought this was the official mascot of the Blueman Group, turned out to be not). And when you reach the top the sight of the misty hills, of course they aren’t mountain, take your breath away.

So you finally end your run, and try and cool down, as if the pouring rains heated things up so now you’ve got to cool it down. But as a runner (and a gymmer) you are pretty much aware that any activity heats things up (now don’t go getting ideas I say). So you leave the park hoping it continues to rain like this for the next couple of months, cause running only get better in the rain.

Any Other World

Her birth was the happiest day of their lives, their joy knew no bound. She was their precious little angel, with a face that could melt even the toughest of heart. Their heart skipped a beat every time she smiled. She was everything they hoped for, she was everything thing they needed. With her their world was complete, she completed them.

But as she grew there was something amiss about her, there was something not quite right about her. She was quite and withdrawn and kept to herself and often found it difficult to communicate. She was awkward and didn’t socialise easily with other children. At first they dismissed it with the thought that she was a late bloomer. But when these signs persisted they decided to get a check up.

She was diagnosed with a mild Autism. This information shook them, they felt like the ground beneath just gave away. The news shattered them. But once they were able to control their emotions they came to a realisation that they had a difficult road ahead, if they choose to tread down that road, but it would be for difficult for their little one. The world could be nasty place, especially cruel to ones who didn’t fit in the status quo. They worried more for the road ahead for her. But no matter what they were determined to give the life that she deserved, the life she needed, the best life ever.

They read up and met up and learned all they needed to know about autism. They took her to therapy sessions hoping to ease her into a world that would see and treat her differently. They did their best to make her self reliant, gave her all the love and support she needed, that she required to face the world. They showed her that though she would never be alone, she could also be self-reliant and independent, just like everyone else.

One day, on the suggestion of one of her friend, who had a dance studio, to bring her for one of the classes, maybe it would help get her out of her shell. She was initially hesitant but finally decided to take her, there was no harm in trying. At first she just stood there, refusing to join the other children. But as soon as the music began to play something lit up with in her. She slowly made her way to the children and very awkwardly joined them in the dance. She gave them a shy smile, much to her mother’s delight.

From that day on she made it point to take her for practice without fail. She noted that she found herself through music, dance gave her a way to express herself. They were all excited and nervous for her first dance recital but got worried when she just stood and began to cry. They were worried if this had scared her for life, she would never dance again.

But then she decided not give up on her love for dance cause she saw the joy it brought her. She would never give up on her and knew he too would do the same. So she continued to take her for dance classes. She saw her being drawn to Tap Dance. In the rhythm of the tap she saw finding herself, as if the taps was were calling, beckoning her to come out of shell, to loose herself in the sounds her taps produced. She saw the joy it brought.

There were a little apprehensive and hesitant when she announced she wanted to participate on a dance reality show. They were worried about the pressure it put on her and if she could cope with it. She had taken part in dance competitions before and had won a few, but this was a different level altogether. But when she assured them that she got this, they supported her 100 percent.

They sat nervously in the audience as she took to the stage and introduced herself. Through their nervousness they felt a calming sense of pride as she told her story and overcoming the hand that life had dealt her, makings lemonade of the lemons thrown her way. They couldn’t help but beam proudly, even tear up a bit. As she took a deep breath, they drew in a deep breath too. She slowly started tapping on cue, slowly reaching a crescendo as the music did the same, going at what seemed like 100 miles per hour. They felt her joy, her emotions, her feeling in those taps, and they knew everyone present there felt it too. She put her heart in every tap and the joy it brought her showed.

When she finally concluded her routine there was not a single dry eye in the house. They burst into thunderous applause, giving her a standing ovation.  And although it was just the audition round they knew she already felt like a winner. They were proud of her and what she had just done and what she just showed the world, she had just proven. Cause in any other world she would have been treated differently but in her world she was Like anyone else.

Oh Humidity!!! How Cruel Art Thou!!!

They say that the weather in the park is always a few degrees lower from its surrounding area. Well when it comes to humidity, you just inverse that assumption and multiple by, hmmm, say 10 (give and take). That’s how high the humidity can be (and in another inverse, the josh is poosh, please don’t try to ask that too).

So you’re one mass of sweat. You’re sweating, or should I say dripping, or even leaking, from all possible parts of your body. Your tee, your vest, have become a part of your skin. You have no clue where your skin ends and your tee begins. Your shorts look like as if you peed in them, and you’re still peeing cause they are still dripping, and for no good reason you’ve begun to froth (that’s if you were me)! So now you know how poor Mandakini felt under that damn waterfall with all your inside on display out.

You curse the weather, you beat your chest and cry out, “Rain, Rain, what have I done to you, how have I offended you, where are you”. And if that that wasn’t enough, you let out a shrill wail, “Rain Gods, Rain Gods, why have you foresaken me?” Well not this dramatically, or blasphemously, but you do utter silent curses under your breath, in your head. 

You huff and you puff and you try to get that bloody run done. But then the weather seemed to be smiling and telling you, “You can’t hurry love, you just have to wait, Running in this weather don’t come easy, it’s a game maintain your pace” making you wonder if the weather is ever going to let up, and no matter how fast you try to run you can’t get away from it. Even the deer seem to be stumbling, rushing trying to get away from the brutal humidity. Somewhere, in the back of your head, a voice is singing “Showers of blessings, showers of blessings we need, sweating we have done aplenty but for the showers we plead.”

But even in this humidity why do we continue to run. Firstly you get the opportunity to meet and run with some awesome runner, Comrades finishers, taking in the experience and advice they have to share. You are running in pristine greenery, and your nose filled with the sweet feel of the forest and flowers in bloom, intoxicating your senses. You get to meet friends, who you would have not met if you ran your usual days. Some flaunting their sexy legs, others giving you a tight and warm hug (the only warmness that’s welcome), since it’s been a long while since you met. Not to forget your sweet friend with the cutest and brightest and sunniest of smiles, which can effectively brighten any boring run. And yes most importantly you have you mr buddy, with whom you continue to yap with the whole way through, and up the slopes, a chit-chat Run.

So no matter how humid the weather maybe, you’ll continue to run but never missing a beat and complaining, “Oh Humidity! How cruel art thou!!!”

P.S. if the humidity doesn’t kill you then the civic sense, or the lack of it, will surely do the trick. The number of empty plastic bottles that we found strewn at the top of the Kanheri slope was surprising, cause these weren’t small 500 ml bottles but the 1 litre ones and most of them not Bisleri. The surprising thing was that the dustbin was visible and nearby. How lazy and irresponsible can we get?

And who gets their four wheelers and two wheelers to the park and then effectively cause a jam, in the park! Thrill seeking youngster speeding with their vehicles, effectively putting life in danger, not to forget to poor runners, cyclists and walker. And is that wasn’t enough they park at the side, keep the doors open and keep chatting, moving the incoming vehicles on to the runners who are cooling down and stretching. When you tell them l they have the audacity of saying that if you asked them politely they would have moved, makes you wonder if they thought you were their paid employee (damn I didn’t even utter a single colourful word).

All this makes you want to exclaim “Oh God, where art thou, when they were teaching civic sense!!!”

Dear Dada

Dear Dada,

There’s so much I would like to say to you but I really don’t know how. Starting with how I love you, how much I miss you, not just today, but every moment of my life, things I should have said when you were here with me.

I know I didn’t quite turn out the way you wanted me to be but I know I am who I ought to be. But I know I wouldn’t be me if you didn’t cared and nurtured, clothed and educated me and gave me a roof over my head. Because of you I stand on my own two feet. I know I am not the perfect son.

I know there have been a number of time I have failed to see your reason, failed to understand your point of view, as much I am sure you did mine. But our misunderstanding could be easily cleared and relationships be mended, if we only didn’t let our egos get in the way. There was no reason to try and prove who was right and show the other they were wrong than simply seeing from each other’s point of view.

I know you slogged hard for me, worked night and day for the family, but I missed having you with me, having you near like the father’s of my friend, but that distance made me look forward to spending time with you, and now that you are not with me I miss you even more. There so much I would love to say to you, so much time I would love to spend with you. But now that time has gone and I will never get it back, all I can do is live with the memory of every little moment we spent.

I really wish you were here to see me and I hope you would be proud of me, cause you helped make me, you helped shape me and mould me. I really would like to explain what it’s like to be me, who i choose to be, for the way I am. 

Dada there’s so much I would like to say to you but I know that the only way that I know I can do that is to close my eyes and imagine you there, cause that’s the only way I know I can talk to you. In my heart is where you’ll always be, that’s where you’ll always reside, your memories imprinted in my mind like a photograph hanging on the walls of mind. But no matter what, I miss you, I love you, always and forever.

With loads of love,

Your imperfect son.

Violence Justified???

Violence is never the answer, and shouldn’t be part of the solution. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth will leave the world toothless and blind, and no one would want to live in a world that’s gone blind, it would be difficult to live in a world gone blind.

Violence should never be encouraged, never be tolerated, should never go unabated. We have no right to cause harm to something that’s not ours, and even if it ours. Violence is never justified, can never be justified. If you have been wronged, take the right course of action, not let your emotions get the better of you.

The past couple of years it’s sad to see the increasing number of attacks on medical practitioners, and the lack of protection given to them from distraught relatives, who go on a violent rampage. Vandalism and violence are not justified expressions of grief, they show a descent into barbarism, takes a million steps backward. Won’t say you’re reverting back to being animals as animals only attack when they are threatened, and here you are the ones who is doing the threatening. 

If you think you are wronged raise the issue through the right channels, lodge complaint. Harming someone, damaging property (that’s not yours in the first place), will not bring back what you’ve lost, will not help those to come, in fact it would do more harm. Your actions should help prevent future negligence, help someone not to go through what you’ve been through, and not harm someone grievously. It’s sad to see this happening, and the state and country not providing much safety and protection. Shows the country and state in a bad light, speaks of a sad state of affairs and apathy towards medical practitioners, especially those working in government facilities.

That said, is a strike justifiable. Wouldn’t a strike go against the oath you took. You have the right to be agitated, the right to be ask for protection, but strike would mean you’re not providing care for those who need it, in a way putting you in the grey. You can’t turn away the ones you’ve sworn to care for, because you’ve been harmed. Pick yourself, dust yourself off, fight for your right but at the same time do what’s right.

I really hope good sense prevails, lives saved, security provided, we turn back to being human, instead of being barbarian, order restored, cause we seemed to be going back into stone age (and I think stone men would behave better).

We Were

He sat there silently, studying the woman who sat across him. It had been while since they had met... oh well... it had been years. They hadn’t met since they had parted ways. Gone was the girl he once knew and in its place was this woman.  There was no much trace of the youthfulness he had once known, and in its place was a stoic maturity. But she was still beautiful, and there were still traces of the girl he once knew, the girl he once loved.

They sat there in silence, studying each other, till he started the conversation, enquiring how her life had been. And between the sips of coffee, an awkward conversation began, and as if the coffee was warming them up, they began to warm up to each other. Their conversation began to flow, and there were even flashes of smiles. They seemed to warm up to each other but not to the extent to the way they were.

He found himself traveling back in time, to a time when they were young, wild and free, with no care in this world, to a time when they were very much in love. He remembered all the late night sneaking out for long bike rides. He remembered the way she snuggled upto him, as they rode through deserted streets, the way her breath felt on his neck, the way her lips felt and she pressed it against him, and then sitting on the park bench witnessing the sunrise.  

He remembered the way it felt to hold her tight and kiss her, the long walks in the moonlight which they took holding hands, holding on to each other. He remembered stealing kisses and clandestine meetings and making out when no one was watching, no one was there. He remembered the flirty texts and those late night calls that seemed to go on and on, missing each other every moment they were apart.

He remembered to all the parties they had been, the ones they quietly sneaked out from when they got bored, when they were required to make an appearance. The movies they had been to, kissing as the lights began to dim, holding hands for the rest show. He remembered to the concerts they had been to, rocking, dancing and singing along, having a jolly good time.

He remembered all the fights they had, their misunderstanding, refusing to talk to one another but the they would always make up, always end up making out. They thought their love was forever, their love eternal. They could do no wrong unto each other.

But then things had changed, and things seemed strange, and life happened to them. They grew up and drifted apart. They matured and realised there was nothing called forever, there were no happy ever after. So they decided to part and go their own way, down the path that their lives took them.

As they continued to talk he continued to study her face, her expression, her every gesture. He could love no other the way he had loved her, he could love no woman the way he loved her. After her, he came out to himself, he came to a realisation of who he was, something he had previously dismissed as a passing phase but finally realising who he was, learning to accept himself before others accepted him. But no matter who he was, he truly had loved her.

Finally when it came time to part way they promised to stay in touch with each other, catch up whenever their lives permitted them to. As he awkwardly kissed her on her cheek, he couldn’t help but think “I know who I am, I miss who I was, when WE WERE.”

ME

Don’t say you know me

If you haven’t run 

A few miles in my shoes

If you haven’t been 

To the places I have been

Seen the things I have seen

Don’t say you can read me

If you haven’t felt the pain I’ve felt

If you haven’t experienced my 

My joys and sorrows

If you haven’t ridden the roller coaster 

That I have been on

Riding the highs and low of life

Don’t say you know me

If you haven’t felt my fears

If you haven’t experienced my anxiety

The things that stress me

That leaves in tears

The heartbreaks and heartaches

The cold loneliness 

If you haven’t seen me at my lowest

Ans base your assumptions 

Just on what you see

Don’t say you can see through me

If you haven’t felt the darkness I’ve felt

If you haven’t felt the confusion I’ve felt

If you haven’t been through 

The struggles that I have gone through

the conflicts that make me loose my mind

That drive me crazy 

Don’t say you know my life

If you haven’t seen me hurt

Haven’t heard me cry in anguish

Don’t claim you know my life

If you don’t know where I am coming from

If you don’t know where I am going to

Cause that something i don’t know

So how would you know

Don’t say I am an open book

If you don’t know my inner secrets

The demons that I hold at bay

The fears that’s keeps me awake

The dark places I have been in

Don’t call me imperfect 

If you haven’t seen my scars

And know how the reason 

Behind their existence 

If you don’t know the reason

For my brokenness

Cause i am way more deeper

And not shallow 

As you assume me to be

You don’t know who I am

Cause I myself don’t know this ME

Someone I am discovering everyday 

Someone evolving every step of the way

Someone being influenced 

Being moulded and shaped 

With every experience 

So if I don’t know this ME

How can you claim to know ME

The Boy Who’ll Always Run in the Rain

The heaven exploded

As the earth imploded

Showering the world below

Quenching the parched earth

Respite from summer’s heat

The thunder roared in response 

To the cries of the world below

And the lightening flashed a smile

Lighting up the night sky

And the rain powered down

To a grateful earth 

Beads of sweat replaced by 

Droplets of rain

Time to soak in the pouring rain

Rather than being soaked 

In your own sweat

Gone would be the pungent smell

Of the mangroves drying in the heat

And in its place a sweet smell of wet mud

Time to put away that cooling lemonade

Time for some chai-pakoda

To curl with a book, 

as the rain poured outside

Finally a respite from summer’s heat

To a world that would have burst in flames

If it had to faced more heat

So the next morn

As soon as I opened my door

I am greeted by an air 

That feels several degrees cooler

Than yesterday’s morn

And the smell of wet mud

Fills a grateful nostrils

So as I begin my morning run

I take to a wet street

That’s been washed clean

From last evening downpour 

The tree too seemed to

Have shed off some of it’s dead weight

And the leaves have been washed clean

Of the dirt and grime 

Accumulated through summer

And now look bright and shiny and green

The streets are lined with 

Fallen branches, leaves and flowers

Puddles have appeared on the street

You trying hopelessly dodge them

Finally giving up, you run through it

With a splish and a splash

The child in you takes over

And you run with glee

As the rising sun

Dries off the wet earth 

You say a silent pray of thanks

For the respite from the heat

Hoping it continues to rain

Cooling off the heated earth

Otherwise it would be 

Hot and humid all over

If the rains decide to play truant

So with this hope in your heart

And spring in your feet

You’ll be the boy 

Who’ll always run in the rain

Runner by the Sea

What you throw into the ocean, the ocean has a habit to return the gesture back at you (I remember it throwing the kitchen sink and a kamod after a heavy spell of rains) morning, but with interest. And as you rummage through what it has thrown back, not because you’re a gold digger or rag picker, but you’re doing minuscule bit to clean up the shore, you’ll be surprise at things thrown into the ocean. So when you find, what could only be a soiled diaper, you thank god you’re wearing latex gloves, though it leaves your hand smelling as if you’ve handled condoms, that’s if you have  smelt them (yikes sorry kiddos).

So as you try to clean up what the tractors have loosened up, you’ll be amazed with the things you’ll find, apart from the soiled diapers. Of course you’ll find tons of plastics, but then you find packets of milk, I don’t think the sea ever gets thirsty, you find detergent packets, maybe that’s the reason for the white sand but the sand at Versova is black, and numerous wrappers and chip packets, brands you’ve never heard of, and you marvel at your lack of knowledge of them.

And though you make light of the situation by playing a game of “Guess What I’ve Found”, you shudder at the thought of what the belly of the oceans conceals, and then you shudder at the thought for the ocean creature living amongst the trash we dumped in it.

That day we did our tiny bit to clean up the beach, but what happens after that? Juhu beach is cleaned every morning only to be littered back in the evening. Oceans can be cleaned only through awareness, stricter rules, and when we take a stand. Events like these are mainly used for photo ops and by people who just want medals and tees, and very often the awareness gets drowned off in all the social media screaming and those posing with medals and tees. So it’s high time we do our bit, educating ourselves and those around us, and doing our bit to conserve and save the oceans.

We need to TALK

Hey you!

Put down that mobile device

We need to talk!!!

No I am not breaking up with you

Though I am not sure

If I was ever seeing you

The digital world has made you inept

And left you all confused 

So now you could do 

With a human connect

It’s time you move away 

From the digital world

And have a conversation 

Using just spoken words

Before you forget 

How words are spoken

How words sound

It’s time you have a conversation 

Before everyone’s gone

The words you write

Are open to interpretation 

They may have emotions 

But depend on 

Someone else’s interpretation 

Which may not always

What you meant them to be

Not always what you 

Intended them to be

When you write

You open yourself to misinterpretation 

So high time you have 

A face-to-face conversation 

And don’t let your thought

The words you intend to communicate 

Be open to an unambiguous communication 

So speak up and say

The words you need to say

You’re so wrapped in your digital world

Slowly becoming 

The only place where you exist 

The only place where people

Seem to find you

You seem to have lost all contact

With the human world

And only exist in a digital one

Living in a virtual world

Your family and friends

Keep tabs on you

Basis of what you post

Making you exist only there

It’s time you put down 

That digital device

And pick up the phone and speak

Cause it would mean so much to them

Just to hear you speak 

Cause spoken words 

Carry so much weight

More than any words

You may try to write

Before it’s too late

And they’re all gone

So it’s time you learn to speak

And let the words you say

Convey what you mean

Let your emotion be seen

Rather than be interpreted incorrectly 

It’s time you meet face-to-face

And have a conversation 

It’s time to talk

Cause spoken words 

Can mean so much more

More than anything we write 

Could ever do

The Baggage Botheration

We all come with our own baggage, a past we can’t let go, a past that won’t let us go. We keep lugging it around wherever we go, things we are not necessarily proud of. Oh well... things we definitely not proud of, things we would rather forget and move on, but end up holding onto it, things that clings on to us. These come in all shapes and sizes and quantity, and the deed decides its weight, how much it weighs us down.

Let’s face it, we are not perfect, and perfection is not we seek, we are bound to make mistakes, take bad decisions, show  incorrect judgement. Even when we try to be perfect we are going to make mistakes. We are bound to slip and fall. After all we are only human. We are bound to stumble and fall but that doesn’t mean we carry our failure wherever we may, let it weigh down upon us.

We are emotional fools, often irrational, thinking with our hearts rather than our heads (and for someone like me who loves to over think, over analysis). We are bound to make a few mistakes, ok who am I kidding, we going to make a lot of mistake, take a couple of missteps, move in the wrong direction, keep stumbling and falling leaving us battered and bruised. 

We all have a past, cause we don’t live in isolation, we don’t live in seclusion, we live and experience, we interact and experiment, and in these moments we are bound to stumble, but let not our past weigh us down, cling on to us and bring us down. Sometimes you need to let go of the past to move on, unburden yourself of the baggage you carry around so that it doesn’t bring us down, so that you can soar.

We got stop judging each other on the basis of our past, the baggage we carry. If we judge someone on the basis of their baggage, just remember you have your own too. We got learn to see beyond the baggage, and to the person, rather than what they are lugging around with them. We got see beyond the past, to see the present clearly and look forward to the future. And maybe in our own little way help lighten the burden of each other.

The Dog and the Sea

He eyed her as she beckoned him to join her. He then eyed water, which lay between them, nervously. He took a few tentative steps towards her, as if summoning all the courage he could muster. But as soon as the water came towards him all the courage he mustered got washed away, even before the water reached him. He retreated back, scampering away, trying to get away from the water as soon as possible. But at the same time he wanted to be with her, she was his person, and he needed to be with her, but this water separated them.

He made a few more attempts but every time having to retreat back when it came close to him, trying his best to dodge it, not to fall into its pull. Seeing his hesitation, his fear, she came to get him  but he scampered away from her, jumping out of her arms when she tried to grab. So he did his best to dodge her and the waves as it broke on the shore.

But then he had to finally let her win cause he loved her so. She took him in her arms as he licked her enthusiastically in between the panting and trying to wriggle his way out of her grasp. But she would not have any of it, finally clipping his leash on. She tried to get him to join her but he fought her ferociously, with all the strength he could summon. 

He finally gave in and let her take him towards his nemesis. He jumped over every wave, like a frisky lamb jumping in the grass, he kept jumping in the water not wanting to get wet. He kept scampering behind, at times trying to tug at the leash, to pull her back, if he could do that. 

He kept running with her as she reassured him that she wouldn’t take him deep. He had no choice but believe her after all she was his person, and he belonged to her.  So he scampered behind her, trying his best to keep up her and at the same time try to keep himself dry. And though he was vary of it at the same time he was fascinated by it. 

When she finally came out of the water, he followed her, yelping with glee, joyfully barking at some boys playing football wanting it, even though it was too big for him, as she tried to wipe him. This was his life, the best life ever, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world.

Can’t help falling in Love

We love to love. We are in love with the notion of being in love. We can’t help ourselves but fall in love. We love to love and be loved. We are the fools who fall in love, fools who rush in, a sucker for it.

With every heartbreak we promise ourselves never ever again, swearing ourselves off it, only to fall hard, head on into it. We promise ourselves time for healing but then we can’t help ourselves with the feeling of being in love. So instead of being cautious, treading carefully, we find ourselves falling headlong into it. Cause we can’t help ourselves wanting to fall in love.

We are a social animal (not the Facebook and Instagram and Twitter kind), and being a social animal we seek out someone to be with us, someone to call our own but never own (cause you can never own the one you love). Someone to come home to, someone in whom we find our home, someone to wake up to, a warm body by our side. 

Someone who will tell you that hey, you’ll never go unnoticed cause I’ll notice you, your life shall never go unwitnessed cause I’ll bear witness to your life. For the world you may be just another one in a billions, but for me you’re the ONE in a billion. You shall never be alone cause I’ll always be at your side, to hold you when you’re low, pick you when you fall, to tell you no matter what I’ll always be there for you, through sickness and health, in good times and bad, and even when death does apart, I shall be with you forever. 

So in the end we can’t help ourselves and be in love, be in love with the feeling of being in love. We may try to hide from it, run away from it but it will always find you. We just can’t help but fall in love, cause the greatest thing you’ll ever know is just to love and be love in return.