Does he get you on a soul level?

Sure he knows you get nightmares.
But does he really know how terrified you feel in that moment?

Of course he tells you it's going to be okay.
But you and I both know it is not going to be okay.
Does he tell you that?
Does he tell you the truth and still holds your hand?
Or does he rubs your back and goes back to oblivion?

He tells you to socialise.
But does he know that you get anxiety among people and how you would prefer solitude over company any day?

He tells you "You don't have to be alone. I'm here."
But does he know that deep down you love your solitude?

He is aware that you are sad.
But does he really know that you have a sad soul and what is weighing it down?
What kind of shackles bind your soul to this sadness that will last forever.

He sees the anger in your eyes.
But does he see the hurt behind it?
Does he embrace your chaos and help you find the inner calm?

He tells you to stop crying.
But does he know that is the only way you have ever coped up with grief?

He knows you read.
But does he really know WHY you read?
Does he know that a good book makes your soul dance?

Does HE make your soul dance?

DOES HE GET YOU ON A SOUL LEVEL?

Can ideas really change the world?

From a very young age, I have been hearing this sentence "Ideas can change the world." but then one day I read a book and realised that someone had an idea and that someone did something about that idea and that's what really changed the world.

That is all what this article is about but our education system demands elaboration so I will elaborate.

You see, everyday millions and millions of ideas get forgotten because no one is working on it. No one is changing the idea into action.
Let me explain this in a more retable way. Few months back my friend said to me "She should be with me." and now they are two of the happiest people I know. If he let his idea stay an idea then nothing would have changed.

You remember how Rachel from FRIENDS won the maid of honour competition by drawing from personal experience?
So now time for a personal experience.
4 years ago I thought I want to change the world so I made this blog believing that it will contribute to the change.

Can you imagine if those millions and millions ideas were in action how revolutionary changes would be happening this very moment?
So you see it isn't really the idea that changes the world. It's the actions we take for the them.

So if you have an idea, make it work.
And change the world for the better. 

The Guest

The guest is suppose to arrive tonight. That's all we are told. So, five of us are called here. G, D, M, me and Liz. 

"Hey, Liz. When did you get out of the hospital?" G asked. 
"I never was in any hospital." Anyone who didn't see Liz could easily mistake her voice for a child. 

D and M exchange a look.

"Okay. So, anyone knows how long we are stuck here?" 
Sometimes G asks too many questions. 
"You ask too many questions." Liz looks at me and smiles. I immediately look away. 
"Well, do you have a problem with that?"
"Guys, let's just cook fast and get out of here."

We start cutting the vegetables silently. My mother never let me cut anything. She always said I would hurt myself. I don't think she was wrong now that my thumb is bleeding. I look around and no one seems to notice so I wipe the blood at the back of my skirt. You will think that's sickening but think about the millions and millions of bacteria residing in the open wound spreading infection. 

I look up to see Liz smiling at me. Her eyes are completely black like the black holes; devoid of light. I half smile at her and continue with the cutting. Silence spread through the room like fire. No one spoke until we heard the bell ring. 

We all rush to the door when M notices that Liz is missing. 
"Where is Liz?" She shouts. 
I know where Liz is. She is standing outside of the locked room upstairs. We have been instructed not to enter that room. 

The door opens and the guest enters. He sits on the sofa and looks at us searchingly. 
"Liz! There you are. Where were you? You weren't supposed to move from here." 
"I saw... I saw him...in the room."
"Who?"
She points her finger at the guest. 
The guest fixes his eyes on Liz and says, "Hello, Veronica." 

CLAUSTROPHOBIA

You don't know

My mind

dark, twisted, caught in its own fate. 

My soul

empty

consumed by the maker's hands.

My solitude

no more feels sweet

tightening like a rope

soft kisses of death. 

My body

layers of skin craved by someone else

dressed by someone else

looked at by someone else

hurt, loved, hated

someone else but me. 

My eyes

where's the shine? Now dead dim

paining but cannot leave any mark

will you guide the light home?

My heart

every corner scratched 

jagged lines desiring flat.

Whole

I'm drowning

caught in the spider's web 

this is what claustrophobia feels like. 

You don't know, do you? 

When I Met Love

How I imagined love was a boy holding a guitar or playing the drum and singing my favourite song but when I met love, he didn't have a guitar or drum, hell he didn't have any musical instrument. He did sing my favourite song but with his eyes.

Love, I thought, would have blue eyes. He doesn't. Love has the usual brown eyes but what made me fall in love is how his eyes light up when he talks about his interests so passionately.

I imagined love to be pretty but when I found love, it was messy. We fight and then laugh because we don't remember what are we fighting about.

I thought love would listen to rock and eat Chinese but love likes EDM and eats Indian.

Love is not just about making every day an adventure but finding adventure even in the simplest of things. So, love does that. He makes me laugh on the way to the grocery. He tries to scare me during a horror movie. He even narrates bedtime stories. 

Love is very different than what I had imagined but few things remain just the same. Love is kind and caring. Love is sweet and soft. Love is fierce and obsessive. Love is unafraid and selfless. Love kisses my inner demons. Love holds me when I am too weak to stand. Love embraces me when I am falling apart.
Above all, love makes me happy.

On Valentine's day, when everyone was receiving a rose, I asked my mother when will I get a rose. She asked me to wait for that special rose patiently. And when I met love, he gave me that special red rose and it was so worth the wait. 

"And in the end, we were all just humans, drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness." 

Let me tell you something. Love doesn't heal your brokenness but love holds you when you are broken. Love reminds you that home is a feeling and you can run back to it no matter what.