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Pouring thoughts...

Every living moment is a writing opportunity. Exploiting these prospects is dependant on writer's capability of delivering rhetoric.

In spite of bearing such absolute thoughts, I have been suffering from the writer's block. And no, I am not trying to drop subtle hints for being identified as a genuine writer. Instead, I am giving a consolation to myself that I am fashionable enough to have the dreaded 'writer's block'.

Can I document every second of jealousy, hatred, lust, pain, love, patriotism? Not unless I have a wand in my hand.

I miss the days when I used to fall in love every day. During school days, the hypnotism in 'love' compelled me to bunk classes, save tiffin, join English tuition and bear being a laughing stock.

I remember saving money for a classmate's voluntary charity program. Ironically, now, a more resourceful moi would rather choose to indulge in some extravagance. I recall how I bought gifts for people on their birthdays….and made birthdays worth getting nostalgic for. I find it a time-consuming formal obligation these days.

I like to wander around in my dreams, dreaming the unlikely and fearing the worst. I recall a character from a cartoon film "Silver Surfer" which even after being told that he is trapped in an artificial war created to keep him engaged there and not come out in the real world, chose to stay in that war…forever. I wonder if I will end up like that someday. I am making all efforts for otherwise.

Painters have a greater opportunity to capture all reining emotions on one canvass… Writers would cause a lot of deforestation to do that. That, though, does not contain me from wondering.

I wonder why I love solitude. I wonder why I think about people during solitude.

I wonder why I love adventure …from a distance.

I think about every possible triviality.

Why does the girl who sits in front of me in class opens and ties her hair every 15 minutes? Is it because she wants people to notice her hair or she just has an OCD? Why does the guy in cab sit on the left side even if there is space on the other side? Possibly because he has a better right profile?

Does everybody think as random as I do??? Or am I the chosen one?

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Gumnami...

गर गुमनामी का यूँ इश्तहार न देते हम, तुमसे रूबरू होने की हर गुंजाईश खो बैठते

Arz kiya hai

गर चाशनीयों में बस्ता है ज़िन्दगी का जायका क्यूँ भला परहेज़ न रखें हम नम्कीन्यों से

True worthless answers

We do not know how to not understand. To be able to be in balance with our mysterious surroundings, we attribute everything beyond our comprehension to something that we can live with. When we made up the story of God, we found comfort in mystery and ignorance. By making Him responsible for everything, we seasoned ourselves not to look for answers all the time. The quest being less intense, we get on with our lives…unperturbed. Our forefathers who found religion in the beginning were indeed intelligent. Those who were dumb to fall for god and the like were not capable of finding the answers anyway. The revelation of my religious orientation should have been gradual and less cruel. But I just could not control the urge to dramatically deny what I don’t believe in. There is another theory which perfectly explains practice of religion by the most intelligent and bright people. They probably understand why it is absolutely necessary to be foolishly optimistic of His existence. It appe...