That’s me in the corner…

That’s me in the corner 

That’s me trying to avoid the spotlight 

Cause when I find myself in it 

It’s for all the wrong reasons 

Making me wish I was somewhere else instead!

That’s me in the corner

The one that’s often overlooked 

that’s often ignored and forgotten

Always on their own

Nothing quiet special

In fact quiet ordinary to look at

A bit of a bore!

That’s me in the corner 

Always on my own 

Wanting something or someone to call my own

But often left sad and forelone

Wanting to love but scared of getting hurt

Wanting to love but often friend-zoned!

That’s me in the corner 

Wide and eyed and smiling 

Trying to appear cheerful and positive

But internally wracked with 

Nervous anxiety 

An eternal pessimist

Coupled with low self-confidence 

And high self-doubt

That refuses to leave me alone

Often insisting keeping me from being on my own!

That’s me in the corner 

Someone who’s frightened of happiness 

Cause something bad might happen next

Someone who’s worried about 13s and

17s

As they come with their share of trouble

And anything falling in these days 

Will never go your way

Call it superstition or overthinking 

It’s just the way you are!

That’s me in the corner

Someone hoping to be in the spotlight 

Cause no matter what 

You have faith

And prayer on lips 

And hope in your soul

No matter how things may turn out

All will be good in the end

And you’ll no longer be

The one in the corner!!!

The girl with the paper cup

She held on to her daddies hand as they made their way from where their car was parked to the Main Street. Her daddy seemed all excited for what they were going to see. He made it known that one day he would like to try and do the same too.

She couldn’t understand what her daddy’e excitement was all about, but then she was quite little, and at her age you just go with the flow. So her daddy was excited and so was she.

As they made their way to the Main Street she could see quite a large crowd had gathered, cheering and clapping and holding banners. She could see a bunch of people running on the road, well if you could call it running. Many were slowly trudging along, some slowly walking, others trying to muster all that was left in them and jog, but all looked quite tired. There were people of all ages (except for little ones like her), of all genders and shapes and sizes. They were all running , walking or trying to run.

She was quite fascinated by this sight. Who were these people? What were they running from? What’s with the number that they were wearing across their chest?  She was fascinated by the colourful clothes that they wore, especially their shoes. She had never seen such colourful shoes before.

All this seemed so fascinating and new to her. She looked upon these people with wide eyes and couldn’t help but get caught up in all cheering.

She asked her daddy who were these people and what were they doing? Why were they all running and looked so tired? 

He daddy explained that they all were running a marathon, a 42km race. He proudly told her that next year he would be running here too.

His excitement was contagious and it caught on to her. Now she too wanted run marathon. Well maybe not next year with her daddy, but someday soon she would run one, though she didn’t quite really understand what a marathon was other than a bunch of people running with numbers pinned to their chest.

She saw a group of children who were handing glasses filled with water to these runners, who took the glass without stopping and threw it bin. 

She watched these children with fascination. She so wanted to do what they were doing, be a part of their excitement. So she rushed to them, eagerly grabbing the paper cup filled with water, all excited to be part of the fun.

She held out the glass of water in her outstretched hand hoping that someone would take it. She was so excited that she almost spilt the water all over herself.

Now since she was last child in line and her hands were little, even when they were outstretched, very few runners paid her any attention or tried to take the paper cup from her hand. But this didn’t deter her, this didn’t dampen her excitement. The water did, but her precious little heart was all beating with excitement as she watched the runners go by as she offered them a little respite from the arduous task they set upon themselves.

He had been running for hours by now, if not for hours, it definitely felt like that. And though he had been on his feet for a long, long time, he felt he was no close to the finish line than when he started. Or this was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Like all runners he cursed himself for putting his body through what he felt was worst than torture (again another one of his exaggeration). He promised himself never again, the last time he undertaken this Herculean mission, but yet he found himself at a start of yet another starting line putting his body through the wringer.

They say when the mind believes the body will follows, but in his case this wasn’t  true. He tried hard to will himself to move on, telling himself he didn’t come this far just to give up, but body seen respond like Christ before his crucifixion asking why had he forsaken them, what had done to him, how had they offended him for him to put them through all of us this.

Despite it all, he somehow found it in him to push on, one foot before another, one feet at a time, just to keep moving, cause there was no turning back.

His throat began to feel parched and there was no water in his bottle. This was probably the last straw that would break the camel’s back. And then he saw her, the little excited kid with this paper cup in her hand with the brightest smile. 

Other runners passed by her , failed to notice her, and took the water from other children, but this didn’t dampen her spirt. There was something precious about her.

He stopped near her and took the cup from her hand and eagerly drank the water. Her face lit up as she handed him the cup and then another and yet another. She was so excited to help.

As he gulped the water he felt a surge an energy course through his vein as if there was something in the water that revived his drooping spirit. 

She held out her hand to give him a hi five with the most biggest and brightest smile. He in turn returned the hi five and felt a renewed surge of energy.

Weariness replaced by determination to finish strongly. He was re-energised and ready to complete what he had set out to do.

He looked at her once again and smiled his brightest smile, mouthing a thank you, and off he went onwards towards the finish line.

She was all excited and happy with what had happened and ran happily to her daddy to tell him that but he already knew as he saw all what had happened. He took her in his arms and hugged her tight. He was so proud of his daughter.

That day a little paper cup not just came to a rescue of a weary soul but also filled the heart of a precious little soul with so much happiness.  There was certainly something magical in that water that the she held with love.

Blank Pages

He sat there staring at the blank page before him. The cursor flashing, beckoning to type something, to fill the page with his words. But what could he write about, he wondered. He tried to but he kept drawing a blank.

He wanted to write a classic. But most of the classics had already been written about. He didn’t want to retell something that had already been done before.

He could write about the life of others. But who would he write about? He didn’t think himself a biographer and then wouldn’t most famous people have their own biographers already?

He didn’t want to be inspired by the life of others cause where’s the creativity in that.

Plus he didn’t know anyone famous who would want him as their biographer, and as for the people he knew he would rather not be theirs. 

So there he was still staring at the blinking cursor on that blank page wondering what to write.

Was this how writers block felt like, he wondered.

Just when he thought there was no way he was coming up with something to write about, it struck him like a bolt, causing him to jump and exclaim in ecstasy.

Was this his eureka moment, or was he just having an orgasmic response to the thought that was running through his head.

No matter what it was, it was something he could do. He could fill those blank pages. He could write about himself.

No, he was as not being narcissistic, nor was his life boring, no matter what others had to say, or what he at times considered his life to be. He always believed that everyone had a story, this was his story, his story to tell.

There was so many anecdotes to share, and many more to come. A chance to fill up those blank pages with the stories he wanted to tell, to let people in, let them listen to the words that would otherwise remain unspoken. 

And he needn’t take inspiration from anyone, just live and do the things he did, and in the course filling his page with his story, not worried of what was to come. The present and past was what would written about while the future would remain unwritten.

And that would be his classic.

Heart and Soul

He sat there at the bar nursing his drink, keeping to himself, occasionally scanning the room, taking in all who were there, most of whom were the regular patron who had come there after a long day of work, trying their best to unwind over their drinks. A few had taken to the dance floor, showing off the moves they had learned.

He sat there, quietly with his drink, savouring every sip, minding his own business.

He could feel the eyes that were on him, the sly glances his way. He was an attractive man, even though he never agreed to this assessment. Although he was dressed casually, he was indeed one fine, rugged looking man. He could easily be a cover model of any of those romantic novels. But still he never thought of himself that way.

He was very aware that many of those eyes were quietly undressing him, wanting to take him to bed, wondering what he would be like in bed.

Though he never liked the attention, but secretly he savoured it. It felt good to be desired and know that none of  them could have him.

And just as he was lost in his thoughts, he saw a sight that literally snapped him out of his self-adulation and back down to earth.

Who was this magnificent creature, he wondered. They certainly wasn’t one of the regular patrons, or he would have known them.

He just couldn’t take his eyes off them like many of the others who were totally enamoured by them.

And though he tried to not to make it too obvious he couldn’t help be drawn towards them. It didn’t help that they sat right opposite him at the bar, right within his line of sight.

So he kept glancing in their direction diverting his gaze when his glances was caught.

Just as he felt like he was going to keep it all together a familiar tune began to play. 

He found himself walking towards them, like a moth drawn towards a flame, wanting to  ask them for a dance but somewhere scared that his request would be rejected.

To his surprise, they placed their hands in his and followed him to dance floor. 

He just couldn’t believe his luck. He was very aware that all eyes were on them, many of those were envious. He just didn’t care. He felt like the luckiest man in the room who had this beautiful person in his arms. Others would have given anything for just a chance but it was as him they had chosen to dance with.

As they danced to the music, he felt them come close to him, and hold him tight, to the point it felt like their two bodies were one, moving in unison to the music.

He could feel their breath upon his face. He felt the warmth of their body as they pressed it against his. He could feel the beating of their heart. 

Life couldn’t get any better than this.

He felt so attracted and drawn to them. He didn’t  know what got into him, he leaned in, half expecting his advance to be rebuffed, but he couldn’t help himself, he had to give it shot and pray it happened.

To his pleasant surprise, their lips met his, halfway. And then they kissed. Not a simple a peck, but a beautiful passionate one, right there on the dance floor.

They didn’t care that others were privy to their kiss, for them the world just faded away. It just two of them on the dance floor and the others faded away to the background.

He wished this kiss would go on, but then they broke the spell he was on. They looked coyly into his eyes and placed their head on his shoulder as they continued to dance.

They then whispered in his ears, “Just wanted you to know that I am married.“

“That’s ok”, he whispered back, “so am I,” he said with a smile.

“I wonder what my husband would say if he found about our kiss,” they said with a coy smile.

“I don’t think he would mind,” he said as they continued to dance.

“I wonder what would mine say,” he asked with a sly smile.

“Well”, they said glancing into his eyes, “ I think he would say, Happy Anniversary my love.” 

As he said this he leant in and kissed him passionately once again as they continued to dance, two handsome men in each others  arms, sharing a tender moment, celebrating their union, as the music continued to play -

“Heart and soul

I fell in love with you

Heart and soul

The way a fool would do Madly Yeah

Because you held me tight

And stole a kiss there in the night 

Heart and soul

I beg to be adored

Yes, and I lost control

And tumbled overboard Gladly

That magic night we kissed

There in the moon mist 

Oh, but your lips were thrilling

Never before were mine so

Strangely willing

Darling, and now I see

What one embrace can do

Come on and look at me

You've got me loving you Madly

That little kiss you stole

All my heart and soul”

The Hope Necessitation

If there’s nothing else in this world

There will always be hope

Hope is what makes the world go around 

Without making a single sound

Hope is that what we have in our heart

When we wake up every morning

When we go to bed at night

Hoping that today will be a better day

Hoping tomorrow will be a better one 

Hope is what gets out of the door 

Especially on days when we struggle the most

Always pushing through

Always nudging us to take just another step

Hoping that step by step we will find our way

Hope is what gets us through the day 

And then through the night

Hoping tomorrow will be a better than today

Hoping tomorrow we find a better way

To cope with life and all it challenges

Hope is that little flame

That lights up our way

Sometimes burning passionately  bright 

Sometimes just a feeble , flickering  light

But always lighting the way

When you’re lost and alone 

Hoping somewhere, somehow you’ll find your way home

Hope is that bolt energy that keeps us moving 

Encouraging us to put foot ahead of foot

One step at a time

Always  moving 

Never stopping 

Hoping to find a way out of the mess we find ourselves  in

Hope to get out of the quagmire we find ourselves stuck in

When all else fails there’s always hope

Never letting us down 

Never letting us go

Like a stubborn child

Refusing to leave our side 

No matter how much the world tries to wash it away

Hope will always be there

In the darkest of nights

In the most terrible of days 

Always finding a way to keep moving

To keep us breathing 

To keep us alive 

Hope will never let you go

Hope will never let you down

Hope is what the world is built on

As long as there’s hope

There’ll always be a way to survive

There’ll always be a solution 

There’ll always be a light at the end of the tunnel 

There’ll always be sunrise after a bleak dark night

Hope is what will keep us going 

Hope is what keeps alive

As long as there’s hope

No one can put you down

The world could do with a little hope

We all could do a great big hit of hope

Cause that’s what will help us to make it through!!!

A Peaceful Place

I have never been the religious kind. Although there was time when everyone thought I would join the priesthood, and truth be told I almost thought so too, but then thankfully I didn’t cause I don’t think I’m cut out for it. But I admit I have been a bit religious at some point in my life. However, over the years I’ve become more humanitarian than religious. It’s not that I stopped believing in religion (I still do) it’s just that I look at life more from a human aspect than a religious one.

Somehow I have always had this notion that religion tends to narrow one’s thinking and their outlook of life. However, this isn’t true. It’s in fact people who use religion as an excuse for their narrow mindedness and justify their hypocrisy.

That said, what I mean is I am not a very religious person. But somehow I find myself drawn to this place, and I am sure that religion has nothing to do with it.

You just sit there and close your eyes and have this silent conversation. You don’t even need to mutter a word or say a prayer. You just have this honest conversation. 

You can pour your heart out without the fear of being judged. You know for sure you’re going to find an empathetic and sympathetic ear in yourself.

Somehow, sitting there in silence fills you with this peace, brings a comforting feeling, calming you down, telling you that no matter how bad things may seem you’ll make it through.

You get this soothing feeling slowly trying to calm you down and bringing down your anxiety levels, talking yourself off any ledge that you may find yourself on.

In those few moments helps to bring you a sense of peace, putting you at ease.

Your situation may not have changed from what it was before, but you now have a more calmer perspective to the way you see things and approach it.

You know that somehow, somewhere, you’ll make it out that what troubles you. There’s a way out of your misery. There’s a soothing balm for your pain. You needn’t do anything drastic.

That’s the magic of spending time in quiet silence in this wonderful place. You come way with a sense of peace.

To LOVE and be LOVED: The greatest thing you will ever do

Everyone deserves to be loved no matter who you are, or where you’re from, or what you do. If you can love, then you deserve to be loved.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a boy or girl, man or woman, black, brown or white, or if you’re gay or straight, bi-sexual or asexual or identify as transgender or just queer. It doesn’t matter how you identify yourself and what your preference is. If you have a pulse running through your vein, then you deserve to be loved.

It doesn’t matter if you are tall or short, what’s your shape or size, or even your length or breath (now please don’t ask me what is being measured). Neither does your ethnicity and nationality and what you do matters.

You are deserving to be loved, even when you are at your lowest, when you’re at your worst, when you’re no longer young and beautiful. When you feel you’re unlovable.

In these moments you especially deserve to be loved.

Yes you can buy yourself flowers. Yes you can right your name in the sand. Yes you can talk to yourself for hours. But then wouldn’t that be more beautiful and meaningful if you could shared this with someone. If someone got you flowers. And talking to yourself even for a couple of minutes (forget hours), is never a good sign.

Yes you can pamper yourself, buy yourself expensive things. But sometimes it’s a bit nicer to be at the receiving end of someone’s love, or even be a giver.

Yes we can take care of ourselves and stand  on our own independent feet without needing anyone else, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But once in a while it’s good to be taken care of.

To love and be loved is the greatest thing we can ever do.

You may be hurting and smarting from heart breaks and heart aches or you just want to give up on love and finding love, never ever wanting to go down that road ever again.

But know this, that love will find its way to you. Cause even though you may give up on love, love will never give up. And just when  you least expect it love will creep into your life and into your heart and surprise and wrap you, hugging you tight, in its arms with delight. And next thing you know it has you all wrapped around its little finger.

You just can’t help yourself and love and be loved, cause the greatest thing you’ll ever do is just to love and be loved in return.

Try a little kindness

If there’s anything you can be  in the world, how about being kind? In a world that’s smarting from hate and whataboutery, how about choosing to be kind.

We all have our opinions and it’s so easy to be snarky, bitchy, curt, all in the name of being frank and in your face and saying it as you see it, being brutally honest. But how about being a little kind.

If you don’t have anything good to say, how about not saying anything at all, cause words can cut like a knife. Words can bring someone down. Words can trigger, words can push someone over the edge. 

Everyone’s going through something to another. Some able to express it others just bottling it all up. Some are able to cope with it, others struggle to make it through the day.

And when they aren’t able to hold all it in, there’s no way of telling how it will manifest itself, there’s no telling what they could do.

So be kind. There’s not telling what the person next to you is going through. There’s no telling what burden they’re caring or what they are healing from. 

You just got be KIND… it doesn’t take too much.

Father and Son: An unspoken conversation

They sat there eating in silence, trying hard not to make an already awkward situation even more awkward. 

The air between them was so rife and thick  with tension that you could cut it with a knife. The silence between them was deafening.

Given a chance they would rather be anywhere but here. But then they had made a promise to her, after she managed to broker an uneasy truce, and so they chose to honour the promise even after she was gone.

Why couldn’t he be like other boys, he thought as he glanced at the boy sitting opposite him. Why couldn’t he just be normal. But no he had to go and be someone different. 

He remembered that long ago he too was once like he was now, wanting to be different, wanting to be someone who would make his mark, someone who would standout form the crowd. But this was not what he did!

He’s still young , he thought, and had his whole life in front of him to do whatever he chose to do, maybe even find a girl and settle down. If he wanted he could marry. But no, he had to go and choose to be something different, someone different. He had to go and make life difficult, make his life complicated. 

Like his wife he too was worried what was in store for him cause he knew life wouldn’t be easy and the world and society wouldn’t be kind to someone like him, in fact it can be cruel to someone like him.

How he wished he would just slow down and be calm, take some  time to think and think a lot. He could  think of everything what he got. He would still be here tomorrow but his dreams may not.

He’s still young and eager and easily malleable, and this was not his fault. But it was not the time to make a change cause there’s a lot he would have to go through. 

Oh only if he could be a normal boy like any other boy, he thought.

As he sat there eating  in silence he felt this uneasiness in his system. He felt uncomfortable. But he had promised his mother, and he was here to honour his promise to her.

How he wished he would just understand, he thought, as he tried to glance to the older man sitting across from him. Why couldn’t he just listen to what he had to say. But when he tried to explain, he would just turn and walk away.

He could understand all his hopes and dreams, but these were not his dreams, it was not the one that he dreamt. This was not who he was. This was who he chose to be.

He knew it would be difficult to accept it but he had to accept it, there were no two ways  about it. 

From the moment he could talk he was ordered to listen, not being allowed to say what he wanted to say, not being heard what he had to say.

This was always going to be same as along as he refused to listen, as long as he refused to understand, as long as he refused to see his point of view. 

This was going to be same old story no matter how much he tried, no matter how they tried to change the narrative.

So they ate in silence, exchanged a few forced pleasantries, a forced hug and went their way hoping they would never have to do this again, but knowing they would do it again cause they had promised her, cause they knew there was a thread, though fragile, bound them together, kept pulling them back to each other.

The Hateful Quagmire

There’s so much hate in the world today. It’s everywhere you go. You just can’t escape it. You just can’t hide from it. Even you lived under a rock, you can’t escape it.

In a world that’s obsessed with its social media presence even a little hate gets amplified a million times.

Everywhere you go, everywhere you look, you find hate in some form or the other. Even the sacred and the holy aren’t spared. Knowingly or unknowingly they too have become the symbol of the hate that we give.  A hate that’s so vile that it makes you sick to the core. That can be triggering.

Even an ordinary and unsuspecting salutation has a hateful and mocking undertones.

Just when you thought the notion of divide and rule was abandoned when the British left the country, it comes back with a vengeance, raring its ugly head. But then it was never ever gone. It has always been there, right beneath the surface, making an appearance every now and then, and more often in our current times. After all you don’t always forget the tricks you’ve been taught, the only thing that’s change are the ones who employ this ploy. 

So now the once victims have now become the perpetrators, and with the elections it’s all the more employed to spread hate and fear.

So rather than talking about what they will do for the country to reduce the economic divide and help everyone prosper, you hear more of hate and speech laced with hate. 

How you wish for simpler time when everyone lived in harmony no matter what religion they followed. 

In the present more complex world there’s this religious divide along with this economic divide. There is this uneasiness and fear due  to all the hate that’s spewed, especially by the high and mighty.

Sometime you wonder how do all these perpetrators of hate live with themselves, don’t their conscience ever prick? Don’t they fear the god that they say they are defending? I am sure there’s a special place in hell for all of them.

But then it’s sad to see so many following them, blindly, with this hate inside them, embolden by the hate speech of those who wield power. And with social media, there’s this outpouring of it that chills you to the bone leaving you disturbed and a bit shaken.

How you pray and wish that these people could actual you some of their brains and rational thinking and look beyond the coloured tapestry that’s front of their eyes.

How you wish you lived in a world where there was no hate, no politicians to leverage this hate, no fundamentalist to fan this hate, no social media to spread it. 

If this was the case then world would indeed be a better place, cause there wouldn’t be any hate to give!

The Loneliest Boy in the World

He could be standing in a crowd

But still find himself all alone

He could go for a dance 

But still stand there waiting for a chance

That would never come 

Cause he was hesitant to ask someone for a dance 

He was the loneliest boy in the world

He could go to a party 

Only be sitting on his own

Cause there was no one there known

And he was too chicken to go up and talk

So he would sit there quietly, uncomfortably 

All on his own 

He was the loneliest boy in the world

He could go to a social and not dance 

He just  stood there and said watched others do

It wasn’t like he didn’t know to dance 

Or he wasn’t a good dancer 

He just had social anxiety 

Of not being able to dance well

And of being judged by the people there

And it would never  be easy for him

To dance with someone he didn’t know 

Only add to the stress to his frayed nerves

He was indeed the loneliest boy in the world

It wasn’t that he was bad looking 

He was handsome and smart

Better than any one at his age 

Fit and lean and pleasant on the eye

He wasn’t chiseled or muscular 

Or someone with a six pack 

Like a typical gym rat

But he was kind and caring and articulate 

Someone who you could take home to mom

Is what they would tell him

But somehow he couldn’t find someone 

To call his own

And when he thought there was something there

It would dry down leaving him a bit of a mess

Lonely and all alone by himself 

A bit overthinking, a bit anxious 

He was the loneliest boy in the world

It wasn’t that he was an introvert 

It wasn’t like he couldn’t hold a conversation 

It wasn’t like he couldn’t dance

Or he couldn’t be a good leader

His leads could be one of the best any day 

It wasn’t that he was creepy or clingy

Or a social butterfly 

But what paralysed him was a social anxiety 

That kept him him from tapping into the confidence 

That he knew he had deep within him

But unable to find his way there 

He tried hard 

He tried his best

To get rid of his title of the loneliest boy in the world 

But somehow he couldn’t shake it off him and so he remained the loneliest boy in the world!!!!

The Runner’s PTSD

I wonder if runners suffer from PTSD. Do we carry the trauma and fear of our last run with us? Do the events of our past races remain with us like a scar we can no longer get rid of?

Well if PTSD is a thing that you think you have  then I must confess that I think I am going through one.

All the muscle pulls, tightness, the inability to run cause you went too fast to begin with, all the dehydration and the low blood sugar level cause you decided to eat and try to sleep way to early. 

Then not forgetting the time when you literally fell a sleep on your feet, like only you can do, while running an ultra, all because it started way too early and you didn’t get your prerequisite amount of sleep. 

Well you didn’t really sleep on your feet but you did spend a good part of an hour dozing  on your feet trying hard not to sleep.

So now, as you stand on the cusp of yet another marathon, you still have these doubts and questions playing with your mind, tinkering with your head. And even though you’ve prepared well for it, you still have your doubts, your fears of going too fast, getting muscle pulls and catches, of hobbling and having to walk for most of the way, or worst still having to DNF.

You question your sanity of putting yourself through it all again, but still here you are almost embarking in yet another full. You know it that PTSD or no you’ve got  this and you can do this, cause no matter what happened in the past, all your fears need to be conquered, all the past needs to put behind cause that’s how you will be able to to move forward and be better than yourbest. That way you’ll be able to over come your running PTSD.

Overthinking at the speed of light

Have you wondered if there’s anything that’s faster than the speed light? There probably might not be one! But have you ever considered the speed at which an overthinker overthinks? It may not be faster, for sure, but its speeds comparatively fast (or so I think).

It doesn’t take much to get an overthinker to overthink, just put them in a situation, or tell them something, or just give them a task, or better still, let them find themselves in one, and see how fast their mind goes racing, albeit in loops, round and round, going nowhere. 

And don’t make the mistake of tell them not to overthink, you’ll be sending them down a spiral of overthinking.

They can’t help themselves thinking and analysing every situation from every possible angle, often coming up with the worst case scenarios (the best case scenario never does exist in their mind), or not even coming to a conclusion, causing them to stress and overstress, more than the actual situation/scenario/ whatever you perceive it to be.

Everything  goes through loops and loops of analysing and overanalysing a thousand times before the mind kinds of settle (though I really don’t think an overthinker has a calm mind). And never does their analysis ever lead them to considering the best scenario, it always what could possibly go wrong, or down the least creative path. Making them the eternal pessimist, always doubting and stressing, always overthinking. Always having the cogs in their brains churning at warp speeds. 

Never quite bothering about the harm they cause themselves. Never quite realising the hurt they inflict on others. Never quite letting them live the life they deserve to live or do things freely without thinking about consequences (even there’s none). Never letting them enjoy life the way it’s meant to be. Never letting them strengthens bonds and relationships. Never quite letting them reach their true potential.

Thus it’s safe to say that even though there may not be anything faster than the speed of light, the speed at which an overthinker overthinks comes quite close. 

But do be kind to an overthinking mind and help them find a way out of that endless loop they, cause very often they struggle to help themselves.

.. and forever hold your tongue!!!

“Speak now or forever hold your peace”, asks the priest if anyone has any objection to the couple from being joined in marriage. How you wish you could say the same to the people in your life (whether you actually want them there or not), but rather than asking them to hold their peace you would rather have them hold their tongue.

These are especially for the ones who are more bothered about your life than their own life (proving they have nothing good  happening in their life). 

The ones who’s only purpose in life is to keep a tab on your and know whats happening in your life and poke their nose where it does not belong. Who are more bothered with what you are doing, as if it’s their reason for living, as if the happenings of your life is the oxygen they need to breathe, to survive, to thrive.

The ones who believe in the adage that ladka-ladki kabi dost nahin ho sakta, making you wonder which world are they living in, which century are they from? Or maybe they’ve watched one too many Rajshri/Sooraj Bhrajatiya movies. 

The ones who love to pair people, or gossip about people just because they hang about together, or train together, or a seen together. Although they may claim that there’s no smoke without fire, but when there’s no fire what’s the use of going about looking for smoke.

Then there are the ones who have nothing better to do in life than to indulge in gossip and rumours. For them gossip is a source of entertainment, a source that keeps them ticking, keeps them going, makes life interesting. But what’s entertaining for them can be a source of distress to another. Their words can prove detrimental, negative and sometimes even fatal. 

There are the ones who are opinionated, and need to make it known to others whether they want it or not. They are always wanting to make their point of view known to others.

Oh how you wish these people could keep their words, their opinions, their gossips to themselves, especially when it’s not needed, when it’s not called for, when it begins to affect mentally because you struggle to shake it off or ignore their actions and words, and sometimes it gets to you and affects your mental well being. 

Oh how you wish these people would just shut up and keep their opinions to themselves and be more interested their own lives rather than what’s happening in the lives of others, what’s happening in your life and what your doing. But then if you look at it this way maybe your life is way more better than their own pathetic one.

Oh how the world would be better place if they just held their tongue… forever!

In your city

It feels strange to be in the same city 

Where we first met in person

Where we consummated our love

Strengthened our bond 

And not meet you 

Every place brings back a memory

Of the place we have been to

And although it’s been well over a year

These memories are still fresh in my mind 

Each place reminds me 

Of the moments we spent together 

Of the memories we made

The love we expressed to each other 

And although we are no longer together 

I wonder if you are thinking of me too

And although I believe I have moved on

I can’t help but wonder

If you are missing me too

And though I know I have tried to move on

Somewhere deep inside me I miss you

Somewhere I hope to run into you

To see you 

To see how you are doing 

If you are doing fine

If you are doing well

If you have moved on too

Or if you even know and think of me too

And though I know it’s not possible

And not healthy for me too

I just hope one day I will meet you

In the place where we met for the first time 

Where it all began 

When I was in your city!!!