Make A Wish…

That leap of faith. The leap that made me lose myself. It was an outer body experience. I never knew I would out of all the people become prey to life’s enduring challenges. I was always a high-spirited, self-involved, content, ego-driven, ambitious girl who refused to look back or look down. I used to be stronger than my problems, more influential than my excuses, greater than my insecurities. But now, I can hardly relate to the person I was, just three years back. I have become unopinionated and scared, scared that I’ll trade my soul to the pinching realities of life.

I was someone who people wanted to be. Zealous, carefree, admired by most of the lot, perfect in the friend zone, deadbeat in the sappy zone. My friends meant the world to me, love did NOT exist. It wasn’t the skin I was forced into, it was the skin I wanted myself to be in, the skin I had stitched myself to.

 Long back I had made a promise to myself, to not cede to the world I was going to barge into, to not succumb to the hurt I was going to be disposed to. I always wanted to be the only one to be in control of myself, unyielding, undefeated.  Then I grew up, and all the pledges that I had taken began to fade into darkness, slowly and gradually I let go of the reigns I had held for so long. I convinced myself into trespassing the reason why I had made all those promises to myself, why I wanted to hold on to them, why I was dismissing them.

 As I grew up, I met new people, my priorities started changing. The cocoon of self-indulgence started disintegrating; I rubbished the recognition of my worth. All sense of self-appraisal withered away.  I was walking on a bed of rocks thinking they were pebbles. I never once realized how acclimated I had become to self-ignorance and self-pity. Hurting and getting hurt, feeling wronged and fooled at the hands of the caustic and incisive reality; it was a vicious cycle. It was driving me insane, to think of it, it still does. It makes me want to run to a distant corner and never come back. Makes me feel strangely small and unwelcome. I began banking on others for my happiness; I was no longer the only person who had the authority over my emotions.

 I miss home, the warmth, the affection, the security, the feeling of never growing up; the virtuality that always seemed to be so real and charming. I miss the time when things like love, hurt, belonging, attention, competition, betrayal were just a fair play of words I never fathomed but wanted to. Now, that I have walked on all these roads, I wish I hadn’t, I would have been so much more at peace with myself.

I hate the way people have started seeing the girl in me, and how they’ve realized that I have a sensitive spot too, that I get hurt too. Time is an ugly game; you want to play it even though you know you’ll be losing.  I have become the person I never saw myself as, the person I would have despised a few years back. Emotionally vulnerable, easily hurt, beautifully and tactfully played with. Sometimes I feel like leaving the overcoat behind and vanishing, or maybe serve my soul on a plate for people to see what I’m not, what I never dreamt of becoming. I don’t know what lies ahead, if what I have in hand will stay or slip from between my fingers, because I don’t want to cling on to it, it’ll stay if it is willing to. . . . .

Life will trick you; it will bewitch you with its charm. You either play along or you devise a game of your own. You can’t avoid it, can’t abandon it, so what is it that you can do? Either watch it as it nonchalantly destroys you or play the illusionist and let it enjoy thinking that it has maimed you…

                         -Akankshaa Diksha Sharma.

Gliding Grace….

Everybody has that one passion, one fad that constantly reminds them of their originality which somehow gets obscured and is found fallen between the cracks amidst a thousand others. In this rat race, our identities are consigned to oblivion. But that one passion brings out our authenticity, even if just for a while. We hold on to them and cradle them because deep inside even we know that we are losing ourselves to the elements of survival.

It could be anything- driving, singing, a sport you used to play in school, shopping- anything.

For me, that fire in the belly is DANCE! Dancing for me is like dreaming with my feet. It lets me be, the skin I’m comfortable in. My airy, blithesome, unanxious, unbothered, jaunty self. I remember getting decked up- that shimmery costume, flashy make-up, the fascinating and gleaming accessories. That was my first dance in primary school, there’s no stopping me since then.

What exactly or how much it means to me is very arduous to pen down.  It’s like meditation, salvation, ardor, a burning desire. To let go is to dance , to break-free is to dance, to express is to dance, to reciprocate is to dance, to love is to dance, to dream is to dance!!

You’re angry- stomp, merry- ballet, excited- jiggle around, expressive- lyrical hip-hop, beauty- classical, agonized- contemporary, agitated- crumping, in love- ballroom. There’s something  for every countenance, every emotion. It’s more than just an art, it’s reverence, something celestial. Ever tried dancing with your eyes and mind shut? It gives me goose-flesh  I feel as if I’m about to transcend to a different universe. The feeling of divinity, contentment, equilibrium and serenity is right there, right then, encompassed in that very moment, that exact place.

When I dance, my body speaks. It speaks the language of the desolate, the unexplored, the unapprehended. I can feel the exhaustion seeping out, the love pulsating and the vigor amplifying. It gives me a sense of abundance and fulfillment. It’s the hidden language of my soul. The stage, it’s like my own- the place where I belong. My feet conform with every inch of the platform, gives me a feeling of belonging and acceptance.  Great dancers are great because of their passion, their determination. Anybody can dance, all you have to do is kick off your shoes and swim on the stage.

It’s a mystic fervor. It gives me warmth, tranquilizes  my soul and entraps me in its alchemistic hypnotic world. Dance gives me a reason to be happy, helps me in burying the bricks of the past which I've carried to my present, let’s me forget the reason I carried those bricks for so long.

There is a vitality, an energy, a force, a quickening that get’s translated into life when I dance. There is a queer satisfaction, an unmistakable sense of relief that settles on me. Maybe, my passion is too wild or maybe it’s the fire inside that changes my entire definition of dancing. Whatever it is, it keeps me going, keeps me at a blessed unrest and  makes me stronger. It’s not about being good at it, it’s about what I derive from it, it’s about dancing lightly on the edges without the fear of losing or getting lost. I dance like I’m the only thing alive, like I’m the sole spirit of love, the only seductress, the only vital force.

It engulfs me, possesses me, recreates me and most of all it makes me want to fly, makes me feel like there’s no touching the ground, I can almost feel the earth grazing my toes and diminishing into non-existence.

I wish I could live every moment like that, like a new breath, make water taste different every time it goes down my throat, let a smile kiss my lips every time I blink. This is how my life gets wrapped up in those few hours when I dance, this is how I exist when I dance. l’m out of myself. Larger, more beautiful, more powerful.  It’s like running away without looking back, without remorse, without a sinking heart.

It’s a heart without fear that knows how to dance to every note, every song. Unload the drama of your life for one moment and lift your feet, believe me, you’ll know what I’m talking about. The thrill and the spell will smother you too. Dance till you drop, dance till you fade, dance till it stops interesting you.

Play along with the rhythm, surrender to the music, lean forward, point your toes, do a pirouette. The beauty of dance lies in its ability to heighten your emotions, make the music visible and make it your favourite metaphor.  Every move comes out of my body like a burst of music, and rings through the entire length, without a pause, without cessation. Dance to me is synonymous with euphoria- it rattles around itself, ushers out my naturalism, helps me not only take over the floor but to enjoy each and every step of the way. It’s something else, something that cannot be verbalized or inferred till you share the same passion or relate to even one-tenth of it.

It makes me want to believe in myself, lift my head high, lose sanity, fall in love, recede from a break-down and see the simplicity of forgiveness. It makes me want to conquer the world!

 You might be an ace dancer but don’t ever dance for the world to see, dance to the music and feel the world around disappear; that’s when you’ll know where your heart, mind, body and soul harmonize.  I know about mine, do you? :)

Take more chances, Dance more dances!!

Why push through life, when you can dance through it!

               - Anonymous.

Dancers dance in a ring and suppose, while the secret sits in the middle and knows!

         - Robert Frost.

When you dance, make every move look like you invented it. Adopt it, stride along with it and let it stream through every cell of your body. Dancing can never be learnt, it’s an expression, it can only be mastered the day you’ll be brave enough to unleash it!

           - Akankshaa Diksha Sharma.

                                    

The Bitter half…..

What do you do when you’re frustrated? Girls, they gossip, shop or start venting. They crib and sulk, make an issue out of it, cry their eyes out and sleep it off. Now boys, they have a different approach towards it altogether, they have their own modus operandi. They either isolate themselves or work it out. The disgruntlement gets to them too but they know how to hack it. They resort to measures which doesn’t give them the power to handle it, but, forget about it momentarily. They beat the drum, raise hell and paint the town red and go wild over what they call ecstasy, their thirst quencher- DAARU!

Girls, when they are happy, they shop, hog, gossip, dance or whatever and sleep it off. Boys know their way around it, they celebrate, how? - DAARU!

There are two types of people in this world. Actually, there are many, but broadly there are two ilks- teetotalers and guzzlers.  Non-drinkers they don’t need much of a description because they remember what they’ve dealt with, and how. So, let’s just flap our tongues about the stimulating ones here ;)

For some people drinking is an addiction, for some it’s dedication. Some drink just to get the buzz, some drink to drown themselves in self-pity and become miserable; and the rest, well they drink just for the heck of it.

To some people alcohol does what words can’t. There are a few who spill out their entire lives and secrets in front of you while some just catch their tongues and swallow it down. There’s a difference between drinking and getting drunk. Some people drink to make other people more interesting, while some take a dip in their own ephemeral majestic world. It can be in the pursuit of happiness or just to joggle out of the monotony of everyday life.

Here’s a quote which grapples my forethought every time I read it:

“Death: "THERE ARE BETTER THINGS IN THE WORLD THAN ALCOHOL, ALBERT."
Albert: "Oh, yes, sir. But alcohol sort of compensates for not getting them.” 

Those who drink to bring out their delitescent confidence are the people who amuse me the most. They surprise you or shock you with what’s been latent inside since a long, long time. After a few glasses down you can either make yourself to be fun around or the other people appear to be fun around, there’s no in between.

Drinking has a different meaning, a different effect in lives from person to person. For one it might be freedom and liberation, for one just habit. For some it might be vogue, for some the easy route to existence. Some people like rocking themselves to sleep, some like “on the rocks” rocking themselves to sleep. It’s just about the perspective. There are people who consider boozing as a sin, for some it’s agility, a fever.

I am acquainted to both the genres and I've learnt to accommodate with both. No-one is wrong, till you know where to draw the line. Few don’t have a problem with drinking but they choose not to see the virtuality of life, but the reality. While there are some who don’t have a problem with drinking except, when they don’t get a drink ;) that’s probably because they prefer being idealistic than realistic, and I see nothing wrong with that.  There comes a time in everyone’s life, when the only thing that helps is a glass of champagne or a can of beer. Such a man can never be too poor to buy a drink.

Alcohol is a lot like love, it either brings out the best in you or the worst. When in limits, it’s an invigorator, it’s fun, but if you drop the fence, it can destroy you. It can either leave behind a lesson or just cinders.

I’ve seen people breaking down, letting out the demon inside, getting emotional, pouring love or fighting after getting sloshed. No-one knows exactly how they’ll toe the mark after drinking, maybe that’s why they do it, to let go, to revive what was mellowed down.  The more you have it, the less you can see its effect on you.  Some people after blabbering a lot of things which were uncalled for get away by saying that it was alcohol doing the talking, but no, alcohol does not utter a word, it just stands there, watching you intently, with constant vigilance, it can’t even pour itself out of the bottle.

For those who let alcohol drive them, there’s some food for your thought:  always have the desire to drink, don’t let it turn into an obsession. Obsession either ruins you or leaves you feeling incomplete and in the want for more, no matter how much you already have. It’s like the throw of dice; it could either work out good or be disastrous. It’s good as long as it’s pleasure and not a necessity, because we can make do without pleasure but not necessity.

If something dreadful happens, you drink to forget.

If something good happens, you drink to celebrate.

If nothing happens, you drink to make something happen.

That’s how it goes. People don’t always need a reason to drink; sometimes it’s just the sequel that leaves you feeling unscathed and unshackled. Maybe that’s why people call it intoxication and not contamination, hangover and not run-over ;)

“First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you.” 
                             ― F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Oh, you hate your job? Why didn't you say so?
There's a support group for that. It's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.” 
                             ― Drew Carey

To drink is as human as to sleep. You will either wake up with a dream to follow or a nightmare to forget.

                 -Akankshaa Diksha Sharma

Solidarity – set ablaze…

I am a readaholic. Give me a book and I’ll love you till the day I die. There are some books which amuse me, some disgust me, and some excite me. Then there are these few selected ones which captivate me, beguile me and monopolize a sacred corner of my heart.

It’s not the entire book that holds me captivated, there a few pages which I read and re-read and still I just can’t get enough of the archetype, such is their beauty.

Analogous to these pages, there are a few people who leave behind an immutable, indestructible mark in your life. I met two such people, the best of friends. I can’t begin to describe them in simple human language. They are rebels. Unchained and independent, vile and crazy, adventurous and charming. They have their own terrene which has place enough for just the two of them.  They are like the wind, never stopping at one place, carrying some leaves along,  here and there for a short while and flopping them down after giving them a ride.  Unstoppable, ceaseless and boundless , superficially describe them. I was one of those leaves, lucky leaf, if I must say. I got an access to their dungeon….. From then on, my life took a turn.

I don’t remember being happier with anyone else. They are all that you want to see, all that you would want to be. They know each other in and out, like a poet’s choicest verse. They are alike in some ways, poles apart in others.

“Excuse me”? What’s that? They push each other out of their way and say “Move that Ass”.

They hug each other and laugh at random moments, they steal kisses like lovers. They make eye contact and the plan is already made 4 times in the head. They’ll argue about absolutely nothing only to find out that both of them are wrong.

They don’t have to be crazy to be with each other, but that sure helps. When one of them gets screwed, the other one pees his pants laughing. I think, the only reason why god didn’t make them brothers is because one set of parents wouldn’t be able to handle them both. Even their families have given in to their absurdity and lunacy.

The crap they talk, the girls they stalk. The laughs that won’t stop, the bottles they pop, the hearts they rob. The jaunts they take the asses they break. They’re a circus, just an exaggerated version.

Downing the beers, spilling the tears, locking the secrets and destroying the keys. They share the absolutely same retardation. I wonder what’ll happen if one of them shows up with a dead body someday. The other one will probably grab a shovel and look for a place to hide the body. There’s no-one like them. They are everything to each other, all the time.

Only they can handle each other at their worst and at their best, because only they know how. Someone who’s new to their sphere would presumptively think they are homosexuals, I’m still not sure. They have these discreet, under-the-hat Saturdays where they let go of all inhibitions, restriction and coyness. There’s booze, loud music, lust, love, randomness, stripping, fondling.. You just  name it.

They are always upto something and if they get caught, one is deaf and the other can’t speak English. So basically, they’ve accepted each other in all their weirdness. They like the same music, the same places, they even share the same taste buds.

Drinking- hahaha- let’s not even get there. They believe in getting sozzled. What follows? Cutting off all network, diving into roadside rivers, and rash-driving, scandalizing people with their gay-ness! Laughing their asses off over anything- an insect, a puppy, a stone? Yes, anything. They tear off their clothes, throw each other’s underwear- taking sky as the limit. They are wild, free bats in the belfry. They are a lot more than what meets the eye, like a small self-sufficient gang.

I’m yet to witness love as selfless, as iconic, as irrevocable as theirs. One is there for the other benevolently and magnanimously. They know each other’s debilities and vices, they’ve gripped each other’s anchors. Vulnerabilities are curtained from the strange and unknown. They’ll protect each other like brothers, fight like they have ants in their pants, sulk like widows and laugh like riots.

Extreme? Yes. That’s how they are. They metal each other’s backbones, get insecure and restless if a third person tries to invade their space. I realized it a little late, but I did. There count starts and ends at two, there’s no three.

There have been times when dealing with each other’s insecurities, love lives, passions, assets, ambitions, egos and abjections would become an ordeal. But with time they would realize who matters, who never did and who always will.

They are like each other’s customized bras- supportive, sexy and hard to find! ;)

I always believed that no-one is totally free, even birds are chained to the sky. But there are a few people who soar higher than the skies by giving up the load that’s weighing them down- That’s them. That’s how I know them and that’s how I would always want to know them. They are connected via souls. They are “crazy, goofy, stupid, weird, lame, socially challenged, socially awkward, sometimes straight and sometimes not-so-straight” best friends. In the few days that I was with them, I understood what a true friend is like, how pure and divine friendship can be, how generous and giving someone can be. Nothing can force them apart and no one would ever want to. They can sit together through chaos and silence - such is the magnetism of their adulation for each other. “ Berserk”  is just a relative term in their dictionary.

 They would prefer walking on toilet paper rather than red carpet because they know how much shit they’re about to unload. Their coalition is unique and incredible. Those who  have friends like them, though highly doubtful- Fasten your seat belts, they don’t start to halt. They come without a statutory warning and they come TOGETHER ;)

Lots of people want to ride with you in a limo, but what you want is someone  who will take the bus with you when your limo breaks down.

                                -Oprah Winfrey.

There should be someone who doesn’t cry with you, but fixes you. Someone who slaps you instead of sympathizing with you. Gives you a hard time when you want to get pampered. That someone, believe me, is the only person you can bet your bottom dollar on.

                                                                  -Akankshaa Diksha Sharma.

The Road Not Taken…

Silence lets the universe be. It’s a mystic union, a beckoning expression. It’s difficult to interpret, even more onerous to break. The storm, the turmoil, the beseeching despondency, so much lies beneath. When words become unclear, when images become inadequate, we learn to be content with silence. But maybe some people choose to be silent to stonewall themselves from the unknown, to squelch the dying human inside, to abolish the hurt. They are scared of becoming vulnerable, of feeling exposed and unclad in front of the world. They drink up their words, gulp down the feelings, and plug the outlets.  The chaos jabs and stings the insides. What lies beneath? Why do such people succumb to their own riddles? Why don’t they express?

The platonic expressions, the unanswered questions, the everlasting silence. What do these call for? It’s a mystery. Some of them know, it’s leading them nowhere; they try to come out of the cage, but something or the other keeps pulling them back, leading to another era of silence and numbness.

People who wear no expressions, people who eat up their words intrigue me to the extent infinity. They are boxes of puzzles, they stand in a crowd yet they stand out. They laugh with the world, but die a little inside every second. They let the insecurities and perplexities predominate. No matter how much you try to get them out of their dark hole, they won’t come out. In the end, it’ll be you who’ll get frustrated and end up feeling crestfallen and incapacitated. They play a different music, music that no one else can hear. Their music lies not in the notes, but the silence in between. Expressions for them are something alien, something they haven’t been addressed to. They wear a mask all the time, too scared to let it fall off. They sit alone and ponder their despair, the seclusion, the delusion, the illusion!

Seeing them fastening their emotions, sometimes I feel, maybe even silence has a sound. He, who does not connote, has killed himself several times in his mind already. You don’t know whether to treat them with love or strive to make yourself heard. We lash out, weep, scream, struggle but it makes no difference to them, not because they’re heartless, because they don’t know any way out. They are as helpless, as paralyzed as us. They are way too wrapped up in silence to peel it off layer by layer. They like their cocoon, the warmth, the loneliness which no one can encroach or trespass.

For people like us, who believe in wearing our smiles on our sleeves, speaking our minds out, such placidity and stillness is too difficult to comprehend. We start making our own equations, go about finding our own answers, measuring all possible angles to quiet the noise screeching inside, the noise of giving up, letting go, the noise of frustration, agony and withering love. They distance themselves from everyone they love or care about because they don’t want them to get hurt by the barbs they've glued around themselves. Don’t those secrets and curiosities burn them inside, doesn't the dispassion disarm them? Why, why, why? Why can’t they let us be a part of them, why are they so scared of letting anyone close to them? And if someone comes close, why do they push them away? Aren't they aware of the contusion, hurt and pain they are subjecting us to?  They somehow prefer silence to saying something which is not everything that should be said. 

The silence between us is flung wide, I wish I could manage to cross it and wrap my arms around, see the patterns changing, appreciate the eloquence of the silence, but maybe I don’t have the courage to. I’ll just have to wait for the human-shaped emptiness to transit into a beautiful expression which lasts till everlastingness. Love gushes out, the words spill on the floor, so much that it becomes difficult to contain. At he same time, I also want to learn to love the silence, make it mine. Hear the unsaid words, fathom the tranquility and make it sound beautiful like the sound of breeze and waves and lullabies and not the sound of disappearance or the silence before the storm. I want to find the glee in the substance of silence; because that’s the only way I can carry silence without spilling a drop.  When you hold a guarded and shelled someone close to your heart, you learn to believe that silence is beautiful, so beautiful that even words are a sort of profanity!

And the rest is just rust and stardust... 

“The world's continual breathing is what we hear and call silence.”
-Claric

VISION….

Prajwal and swayam. These are the names of the cutest two 7 year olds I recently crossed paths with. Sitting in a corner, prajwal was trying to make swayam laugh who was mulling over something since the past half an hour that I had been there. Fascinated by those cute little things, I finally made some calculation in my head and walked over to their dingy corner.

Bringing out the mischievous 7-year old eavesdropper in me and very complacently, I tried to overhear and hearken bits and pieces of their animated conversation.  They were talking about what they wanted to be when they grew up, every child’s most esteemed moot point. One of them said he wanted to be a professor while the other aspired to become a doctor.

Coming to that, I wanted to become a journalist, I used to love the way they did their hair and drawled and gabbed into the mic. I always wanted to be the face in front of the camera, I craved all the attention and of course, not to mention all the posh clothes and accessories they donned.

Not straying from what I’ve been wanting to pen down since 2 days, I’ll ricochet back to P and S.  I can never, whatsoever, forget the flurry and exhilaration in their voices when they were talking about “the big thing”, tomorrow. I could see prajwal’s grasp on his friend’s hand tighten when he said he wanted to travel the world and make people better, that people dying around him made him feel sad and lonely. Swayam said he wanted to become the best teacher, someone his students would look upto.  The joviality, sanctity and bright outlook towards life for two little orphaned blind children who didn’t even know what a brutal world awaited them outside, brought tears to my eyes. Not for one second did I feel that they had any bitterness, spitefulness or antipathy towards life, they were optimistic, dreamy-eyed, normal kids who wanted to become a part of the crowd, walk hand in hand with the people walking on the roads outside, match their pace and get acknowledged. Their tranquil vision, simplicity and buoyancy made me scoff at myself for crying over petty and trivial things such as a broken heart or not enjoying my life to the maximum.

They taught me, without even knowing about my presence, that life is truly beautiful, it is giving, it’s priceless, substantial, absolute and blissful. I don’t know why I couldn’t sleep that night; I couldn’t dismiss their beaming, radiant faces. I could feel a gap pervading inside, a crack sealing. It felt as though my entire perspective towards life had changed overnight, I could feel the pessimist me shifting through space. I remember swayam asking his mate if he would still talk to him once he would become famous and make new friends. But the innocent question that engulfed my soul through and through was that would he call him once he became a doctor and cure him too, he said he wanted to be able to see his students and teach them from real books without having to feel them with his hands, that he wanted to see what he taught, see who he taught. I couldn’t sit there any longer, I left. The whole way back to my college, his question kept replaying in my head, I wanted to cry, scream, run away from myself. I felt disgusted with myself for being so greedy, egocentric and narcissistic.

Sometimes, some incidences reconstruct and refine you as a person. It happened to me that day. I was born again on the 24^th of December, 2013. The chastity and unworldliness of two pint-sized boys transformed me into someone I could never imagine myself to be just 2 days back. Life works in mysterious ways. All of us have that one angel who brings about that metamorphosis in our lives, I got two : )

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.” 

-Albert Einstein

“Not all dreamers are winners, but all winners are dreamers. Your dream is the key to your future. The Bible says that, "without a vision (dream), a people perish." You need a dream, if you're going to succeed in anything you do.” 

                                                -Mark Gorman

Life sometimes shows you things you always chose to be blind to. They are the most beautiful and cherished apparitions. They are worth a king’s ransom, worth a wound bled for!

                                                          -Akankshaa Diksha Sharma

It’s a Mad Mad World…

Emotions gnawing at you, perforating your soul.

Know how that feels?

A normal human is brimming with an assortment of emotions, attending to them every second, every day.

Some transcend, some get vanquished.

It's a mad mad world, where people find love, seek happiness, fall prey to greed and betrayal, and deal with infidelity and heartbreaks.

Some find success, some go astray and hit rock bottom. Nothing is constant, nothing lasts forever. The best of friends in college become strangers in a matter of years.

A person minting a zillion greenbacks might end up getting bankrupt the next year. No one knows what lies ahead. To predict your future, you need to be able to create it.

There is dejection and dysphoria, but there is also exuberance and euphoria. There is agitation and disappointment, so is fulfillment and vindication.

A plethora of emotions surface, get subdued and then resurface. They come in deuces, none without the other. You never know which emotion will possess you when, entrapping you in a vicious deception. One leads, the other trails and within moments the facade changes.

A "let's make love and spread love" mood could be the protagonist tonight; tomorrow it could be a zoned-out "I don't give a fuck" mood. 

Emotions are tricky as needles in a haystack. They play with your mind, manipulate your decisions and control the wheel.

Then there are relationships. Some last, some don't. Some people are conclusively and inexorably in love with each other while some simply believe in serving their privacy on a platter for the world to see and that sums up the contour of their relationship.

But then, not everyone who's single is lonely and not everyone who is taken is happy.

There are times when you struggle to put your sentiments on a shelf. You want to conquer the world, explore yourself, take chances, make mistakes, and follow your instincts without any restraints. They smother your mind, floor your mess, and clear the mist.

Sometimes your mind fools you into doing things which are wrong, let your subconscious mind take over, let your conscience guide you. Stand up for what is right, even if you have to stand alone. It's healthy to be alone once in a while; it tells you that you need absolutely no one to define you.

It's okay to try and it’s alright if you fall down while trying. The one who falls down and gets up is so much stronger than the ones who never fell.

Life is going to knock you down several times and that's okay, what’s not okay is when you let it keep you down...

Strive hard, fight strong, snatch everything that's yours. If you ever feel like giving up, just think why you held on for so long!

It's an everlasting journey, you'll sometimes see a dead end, but as you actuate forward you'll see that it’s just a bend, not the end.

Keep walking, propel your coasters through the seas, and reach the shore, because you have to walk your own path. Some people will walk besides you, some behind you and some ahead of you, but no-one will walk it for you.

Don't let anything or anyone make you feel ordinary; you and only you know what you're made up of, what you're capable of. You're a fireball, dynamite, you choose your own pawns, make your own rules.

If you've given something to the world, there's a lot you can extract out of it. Make the most of what you have, take every day as a new challenge. Let your smile reach your eyes, let your hair breathe, let your face flush red, let that blush find your cheeks.

Those clandestine talents need to come out, time you brought them out of that closet in the attic.

Make a wish, believe in miracles. Sculpt your future, grace the present.

Take a bow, it's show time :)

Only the dead have seen the end of war.

                           -Plato

To know what life is worth, you need to risk it once in a while.

          -Jean-Paul Sartre

To know what life is made up of is the greatest knowledge man can attain and to know how to live it is the most illustrious and proficient skill known to man.

  -Akankshaa Diksha Sharma