What is home for you?

We had just finished our nightly movie ritual and it was quarter-past eleven. "The weather is really nice. Looks like it's going to rain!" he exclaimed as he went outside.

Dear diary, Do you have something in your life that you can never tell anyone about: a secret; a memory; an object? You want to keep that thing completely hidden from the eyes and ears of everyone around you; not because you fear what the consequences might be but because you know that they wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t understand the “why” behind it. You don’t want to tell them the answer to the “why”, probably because you don’t know it yourself. You fear that if you had to articulate your

You are stepping out And all you see Is nothing Houses turned to cages Trapping unwilling bodies A monochrome sky But a thick red On the street A harmony of cries High and low Sung by a choir Of young and old A child staring at rubble You go closer Half a leg wearing an anklet Stares back at you A cry escapes A tear breaks free You hear a creak A broken cart With a broken man Rolling along a broken body In a gown With a camouflage pattern In red You walk and walk and walk Coming back at your own

"What is beauty?"

Picture: imdb.comI rewatched Wake Up Sid today with my family at dinner. The first time I had watched the movie I was a kid, and the only thing I remembered about it were two amazing songs ('Wake Up Sid' and 'Iktara'), the fact that it had Ranbir Kapoor and Konkona Sen as the lead actors, and the opinion that it is a good movie (the kid me was an intellectual movie critic!). Did that opinion change after rewatching the film? Let's find out! Disclaimer: There are spoilers ahead! (Just to let you

Montaigne writes, "[...] what we do not understand we condemn." This rings true in the 21st century as much as it must have in the 16th.

Divisions, distinctions, sexes, situations It’s all the same to me Categories are for you You are all equal for me Your wailing and your weeping Nothing matters to me Revenge or relief You can’t have either without me Incestuous son of Satan Even Christ wasn’t spared by me Listen to Horace, Leuconoe Enjoy, before you come to me Count your days, child You are alive because of me.

What does it feel like To know you will die Any day now Any minute Any second You used to trip and fall All the time But now One slip may be fatal What does it feel like To not know what lies beyond Whether you would see the light of day again Or fade into oblivion Buried Or turned into ashes Laid into the earth forever Or washed away into a river What does it feel like To know you can never go back To those reckless days Youthful days Happy and carefree Limited worries Limited responsibilitie

Sitting in the metro on my way home from college, I looked around and watched people. Why? Because I was bored to death, and I had nothing better to do.

Internet is a fickle, fickle creature. One day your whole Instagram feed is brimming with posts about being productive, and then the next day being unproductive is aggressively endorsed.

I rolled my eyes. “Why, did he lose your blood sample, too?” I jokingly asked. “How did you know?”

They will get annoyed. They will get mad. They will say it is not natural. But baby, don't get sad. Honey, stand your ground Don't get pushed around. Let me tell you something true, The sky is not always blue. Sometimes it is yellow, Leaves you warm and mellow. And let me tell you, with a wink, The sky is also pink. Babe, you will be fine, It just takes a little time. Don't mind the words they say, or their tone, Because darling, you're a miracle of your own. And those who say Nature did not

I like summer Although it is hot I don't consider it a bummer I always give it a shot Sometimes I am happy A breath of fresh air But when I am angry People better beware Winters are the best I am always moving Nothing can stop me I am always grooving I will tell you a secret A prankster am I I will topple your hats And ruffle your hair as I go by Nights can be lonely To do I have no thing Since I can not sleep To distract myself I sing Sometimes I get sad Because I can see you being bad I s

"I really liked that girl's sculpture!" a pretty lady said to me. "The sad smile on her face really fits in with the story." "Why, thank you!" I said to her, while studying her proportions. "You know, you would make a beautiful sculpture, too."