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Amongst the many hues and shades of colour, there was just one that stood out brightly. A shade not etched in , a shade that no one saw, a shade hiding slyly between two shades of something, there was nothing.

You will shades into existence, with peer persistence, but hasn't every shade been discovered. What if you find something new? What happens when it's been explored and whilst the mundane bleeds out of you, it drains everything you ever knew. Including you.

The shades that are known are defined into red, blue and green. They land a particular way, they pair up best with so and so, they reflect brightness on ex complexion,they complement y. Theyre boxed and briefed, canned and stocked, labelled and sold, to just about everyone.

But what off the colours that are to be yet discovered, silently sitting in the corner of a painters pallete, a discovery to be found. Untamed, wild, out of the box and weird. Unowned, free, frolicky and unfettered. Unshaped, disformed, unknown. Th…
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Patterns Deviate, like people.

They connected the dots with matching moles and travelling spirits. They sat in silence, under the night sky watching the stars. Resigned to fate, it was known that it was ending. I'll love you till the end of time, would still be true.

They had just stopped pretending it was anything more than it actually was. A deep friendship. Maybe it wasn't important to know every inch of the other person, there was no ultimate wholeness. Really, they were simply two halves that were shaped the same. 

Maybe if you were truly known, you would only be tolerated. Who escapes one hell, to find another. For all hot flames, simmer down to deep ember.

From one it came, and to it, it returned. For it truly just belonged, just to it at the end.

Sol 2

If it were, were it to be me, were it to be mine, what would it be.

When it is found, when it breaks and remains broken, will wishing it away work this time.

What can be done, when with doing, wishes become undone.

When will becomes wrought, and the vents loosen, will it be gone, gone this time, gone for good?

Then it would be, as it was meant to be, where you were you and I were me. 

Then there would be no we, we would be easy, we would be free, we would be happy.

Soliloquy 1

It began in friendship and turned into a glowing sun. Strong, bright and eventually explosive. How else could it be described. But to call it summer time rain, urgent and fresh with the musk of mud. Or maybe better, would be to call it, the crater at the bottom of the deepest ocean. Alone and a secret. Locked.
Or maybe the exhilaration of a bird flapping its wings for the first time, soaring and soaring into the sky till it arrives. It was the tight knot of comraderie, and a promise, never to let go.
And yet the knot loosens, the flight faulters, the crater floods and the summer begins again. Scorching heat, a desperate prayer for rain. And should it come, what form would it take? How would one live past the regret of yesterday's mistake? When the closest experience to that, is a reminder of the first cut. Or perhaps an imagination of what the world would look like, should all of the sun disappear.  So she slugs along, inch by inch, step by step. Was this grief she sought, to help h…

Cinammon Powder & Chilly Flakes

With the mish mash mush,  we got married. It has been two years since,  (almost),  but it feels like we're already running out of time,  and there in lies my biggest fear. What if a lifetime is not enough?

Throwing that thought out of the window.

Recently,  an interaction with an old friend told me something new about myself. Somewhere &  some how,  unbeknownest to me,  I've transformed into someone who takes themselves seriously,  and if that were not enough,  expects people to take her seriously.

I dont know how this happened, and with this realization,  im afraid that Pandoras box has been opened. I cannot,  now,  tell myself that it's OK, that someone was rude to you.  I now HAVE to tell the other person.  Feedback. Coaching.  Call it what you will,  it's all the same.

Driven by absolute rage,  it is not controllable,  and I think it's burnt a friendship.  I know,  that if I had to second guess someone's intent,  then I dont know them very well,  an…

Rule Uno- Bridezilla Diaries

I think a wedding translates on so many levels, a very complicated, ancient coming of age 'thing'... I call it a thing, because when I have the flu, my general sense of eloquence takes a deep dive into the river of nonsense.

From the dates the wedding was decided, it took only a total of 2.5 months for my bestie to call me bridezilla. Cowering in embarassment, it's taken me a month to forgive her (I apologized a week later, but I forgave her a month later). And longer still to analyze the depths of emotion, one's general sense of sanity dives, post the simple decision of marriage is confirmed.

Firstly, it dawns slowly, every day, that YOU.. as in you, are getting married. This essentially means, that YOU will no longer be the late visitor/guest at the wedding, but the person that is getting married. This means that, you CANNOT decide what you're going to where before you take a shower  on the evening of the wedding.

This also means that YOU cannot plan with friends…


This post is for my one reader!  Who reminded me that my 11 year old blog,  sat abandoned in the midst of a rapidly growing online universe.  And shocked that I've clocked just one real post for a whole year,  trying to think through a number of thoughts,  one quick one to pen down,  I've realized I've been through a corporate restructure,  a promotion and a few life changes which has completely left me thoughtless.  Going back to the posts from a decade ago,  I know that it's because,  unsurprisingly,  I've ended up being a corporate drone. Version 6.7 of the factory worker featured in Orwell's 1984,  except in 2015.  Which means,  big brother doesn't need to monitor me as much as I monitor myself.  For the sake of productivity.  Ensuring the minimal 8 hours of sleep,  so that the best of me sells out at a decent but comparably lower than everyone else's,   salary.  The shame.  But marching on tonight,  I've managed a decent post.  Or so I think.  …