Let me tell you something.

You said, ‘ You should write poetry, I think you’d be good at it.’

Did you know then?
What it means to be Black blood and Red ink?

Let me tell you something ;
Poetry is not rhyme scheme, it is harsh and cruel and truth.
It will always taste like blood.

Did you know then,
What slit veins on paper are?

Let me tell you something ;
We(poets) are all together and all alone and all bloodshot eyes and unshed tears and teeth and fire and broken, broken, broken.

My dear, if I’d never written those first words, I never would’ve known,
But it’s been a lifetime since you showed me this lifeline, and so

Let me tell you something;

It hurts to become.

Wonderwall. Reflections of the socially awkward photographer.

Wonderwall: Someone you can’t stop thinking about,someone you are infatuated with.

Here I am, thinking of you and I don’t even know your name.
All I wanted was something forbidden.
And there you were, sitting on the footpath, in a black fitting Tshirt,
A lit cigarette casually held between the fingers.
Eyes met. We spoke.
My mind went a little blank.
It was those stupid cheek bones.
All I wanted was to take a picture of that moment.
And then some more.
Those light hazel eyes had me captivated.
But I didn’t know what to say.
So I walked away.
And now you’re on my mind.

I just wanted to be behind a lens with you on the other side.
Somehow the moment passed.
And now here I am,
trying to capture in words the image that I couldn’t.
I loathe this feeling of resignation.
This utter helplessness.
And now you’re on my mind.

There’s nothing I can do.
Fifteen minutes of acquaintance.
Four days of wishing it better spent.
You’re still on my mind.

One picture.
And you wouldn’t be on my mind.

Why are you still on my mind?

We find ourselves there too.

Yesterday was the end of the writing challenge,and I have to say I ended up enjoying myself a lot more than I initially expected. I’ve had fun and it makes a difference to your outlook when you consciously think and write about Philosophy and Life,however basic it may be.

So now the question is-What next?
This challenge was meant to encourage me to blog on a more regular basis and I hope to refocus it on Bakery from the coming weekend onwards. But I’d also love to continue these Quote Challenges,any ideas anyone? Anything you’d like me to write?

Until next time then,and I leave you with this…’We lose ourselves in the things we love,We find ourselves there too.’

Never regret anything that made you smile.

Now this ‘No regrets’ policy is something I actually live by. I suffer from an uncommon trait in today’s world-Brutal Honesty. Maybe it’s because I’m young enough to be able to get away with it. Maybe it’s because I believe in speaking my mind,irrespective of consequences-at least where talking to my peers is concerned.

Moving on to ‘something that once made you smile’ bit of it,that is a lot easier said than done.

“You run out of tears long before you run out of hurt.”-Gregson.

That is true. When you shatter,it takes time to heal,to mend,and sometimes it changes you irrevocably.

But it’s okay. Because someday,you wake up and you can breathe. The grey cloud floating above has disappeared and it’s a Good day.

For me,Someday took some 2 years to finally show up. And when it did,I realized that that’s how life lessons happen.

It’s like C.S.Lewis said  ” Experience.That most brutal of teachers. But you learn. My god,do you learn.”
So despite how over used it may be,I’m gonna say – Never regret anything that once made you smile. Anything that made you happy once was time well spent.

Speak your mind-somehow when you don’t the feelings fester in your heart and dwell in your mind until it becomes all-consuming. The consequences be damned,at least you did what you believe to be right.
And if you’re ever unsure of what to do,think of this- Trust your gut and heart,they somehow already know what you want to be.
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Part 7 of the ‘Life is short’ series. ©Angrezikabutar.

Laugh Uncontrollably.

So moving on from the slightly dramatic turn these posts seem to have taken,Today we talk about the very epitome of happiness. Laughter.

Ask anyone I know and the first thing they’ll tell you about me is I cry when I laugh. I kid you not,it actually happens. I’m laughing and next thing you know there’s tears running down my cheeks.

The sound of laughter is something that turns heads even more than that pretty girl walking down the street. All of my best memories involve laughing so much your stomach hurts and you’re gasping for breath. I love those moments,almost as much as I love chocolate.

I especially remember those days when I’d simply refuse to go  back to attending lectures after lunch,convince my friends to do the same and we’d sit under the arches in college ,drinking Iced tea and laughing so much about the stupidest things.

You know those moments late at night when you’re tired and sleepy and everything’s hilarious beyond compare?  I love those moments as well.

They comfort me on days where the dreary,grey sky tries to bring you down.
On days that I pretty much hate everything and everyone for no apparent reason.
And on days when you live in the past,wishing you could have some bit of it again.

But it does not do to dwell on the past and forget how to live.

I’m pretty sure Dumbledore knew what he was talking about.

So Live.Laugh.Love the things that make you happy.
Laugh enough that people think you’re certifiably insane.
Laugh uncontrollably with that one who puts a ridiculously wide smile on your face.
Laugh with your friends. You’ll miss those stupid fools more than you ever thought you would.

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Part 6 of the ‘ life is short’ series. 

Love Truly.

Clearly I was so excited to write this article that I almost didn’t. For those of you who know who Sheldon Cooper is-that statement has a big,fat,visible from a mile away note saying ‘Sarcasm’.

Unfortunately I don’t subscribe to the mass perception of love. Love truly-In our world,or more specifically in mine,that statement is begging to be scoffed at. Quite visibly the bitterness I spoke about in Forgive. still remains.

Then I read this. by a friend of mine who’s also doing this challenge with me.

And I decided instead of a highly sarcastic,negative point of view, I am going to focus on the Good.

Also when I say Good, I do not,in any way,mean to talk about Romantic love. I am 18. I do not believe you can be ‘In love’ at this age.

So what am I talking about? Love is…

Like cuddling up with your dog on a cold winter’s morning.
Like reading a good book with a cup of coffee on the side.
Like the hug you give your close friend where you just don’t want to let go.

Love is…
The sacrifice of a good night’s sleep to lie on your back and stare at the stars with a friend.
The smile on your face when someone who’s important says they miss you.
The silent conversations which mean more than words ever could.

Love is…
When you can’t stop laughing at the joke only the two of you understood and the crowd simply stares.
When you talk until 4 in the morning because some things are meant only for the night to hear.
When you call a friend just to say I hope today is awesome and your hair doesn’t frizz.

Love is…

That is love. Always.
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Part 5 of the ‘ life is short’ series. © Angrezikabutar

Kiss Slowly.

There’s a lot this particular theme makes you think about. I couldn’t think about anything to focus on. In the end,I just went for it,you know,like you’d go in for a kiss.
***~***
She. She is shrouded by the shadows, save for a dim light that throws into sharp relief her angular jawline. Where is she? What is that light?
  Is she in a garden at midnight,waiting for her lover by the light of the moon?
Is she on the porch after curfew,silently saying goodnight to that someone?
Is she on the balcony,sneaking in a few stolen moments?

In silence,she waits,a midnight blue shawl covering her shoulders. She pulls it tighter around herself,folding her arms against her chest to keep out the winter chill. Her eyes search,even as the night becomes darker.

She can hear the owls hoot. All she has to keep her company are the thoughts swirling around incessantly in her head.
The sound of car backfiring in the distance makes her jump.

Her face jerks upward,her long,chestnut hair whipping across it in the wind. She’s still waiting,her eyes shine with anticipation even as they betray a tinge of desperation.

Is it a long awaited meeting? A repressed desire slowly coming to the fore?
Or is it the last meeting of two people bound inextricably to each other?

The sound of footsteps betrays his presence.
She can hardly breathe,she closes her eyes, the maelstrom of emotions almost too much to bear.

They meet.

And when he picks her up and twirls her around, the sound of her spirited laughter is more melodious than anything ever heard because it rings with true happiness. He puts her back down on her feet and the shawl falls to the ground,unnoticed by either.
You know by now,reader,what comes next.

They kiss.

With passion and desire swirling in a vortex around them. Slow kisses,the kind that warms you up from the inside. The kind that you’d travel 3000 miles for. The kind shared by two people who care,truly.

They kiss.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

And it is perfect.

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Part 4 of the ‘ life is short’ series. ©Angrezikabutar