Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Mira’s home stood on a cliff by the sea, gray and weather-beaten, perpetually damp from the salt and mist that crept in from the ocean. After he died, the house had fallen into a stillness that grew heavier each year, pressing down like a weight on her chest. Friends had stopped visiting, the last of them claiming there was something wrong with the place. Some hinted at bad energy, others said they felt “eyes” on them, lurking just out of sight. But Mira knew what haunted this house. She had loved him too deeply to let him go.

They had been inseparable once, bound by a love that felt almost feral, consuming them like wildfire. But death had taken him, and Mira was left with a grief so raw that it threatened to hollow her out. She clung to his memory as though it were a lifeline, filling her days with reminders — his old sweater draped over the chair, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. She even kept his side of the bed untouched, a pristine monument to what she had lost. But this grief wasn’t content to sit quietly. It had taken form, lingering in the corners, slipping through her thoughts like shadows.

Then the dreams began. At first, they were faint images — a glimpse of his face, a whispered name. But as weeks went by, they grew sharper, more vivid. She would see him standing at the edge of her bed, his eyes hollow and dark, as if he were waiting for something. Each night, he came a little closer, his presence filling the air with a cold that bit into her skin. When she woke, the room would be silent, but her heart raced, as if it knew something her mind refused to admit.

On the night of the first winter storm, the house was drowned in darkness. The electricity flickered and died as thunder rolled over the cliffs, shaking the walls. Mira lit a candle and stood by the window, watching the rain lash against the glass. Her own reflection stared back, pale and haunted, but behind it — a glimmer, a faint outline, barely discernible in the dim light.

She spun around, holding her breath. In the shadows of the hallway stood a figure. He was barely more than a silhouette, yet she could feel him, his presence wrapping around her like a fog. The air grew thick and cold, each breath coming shallow and labored as her pulse hammered beneath her skin. She tried to speak, but her voice was swallowed by the silence.

“Mira…” His voice slipped through the darkness, barely more than a whisper. She shivered. It was his voice, unchanged, soft and familiar. Yet there was something wrong, something hollow, as if he were speaking from a place beyond her reach.

“What do you want?” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of his name. Her candle wavered, casting strange, twisting shadows along the walls. The figure moved closer, but it was not the warm presence she remembered. His eyes were empty, sunken, his mouth drawn in a mournful line. And in that gaze, she saw her own despair reflected back at her, a silent accusation for binding him to this lonely house.

She had kept him here, tethered him to a world he no longer belonged to. Her grief had become a chain, anchoring his spirit to this place, denying him the peace he deserved. She thought of the life they’d once shared, their dreams and whispered promises, now broken and abandoned like the cold rooms around her. But he remained, caught between worlds, a shadow of the man she loved, haunted by her sorrow.

As lightning split the sky outside, she felt a surge of desperation, a need to set things right. She reached out, her fingers trembling as they passed through his figure, meeting only air, cold and biting. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her words heavy with the years of grief and guilt that had wrapped around her heart like vines. “I release you. Go.”

For a moment, he stood there, his face softened by something she thought might be relief, or perhaps gratitude. And then he faded, like mist dissipating in the morning sun, leaving her alone in the darkened hallway. The candle flame shuddered and went out, plunging her into darkness, but this time it felt different — an emptiness she had created, one that would echo through the house like the ghost of a heartbeat.

As the storm raged outside, Mira sank to her knees, feeling the full weight of her loneliness settle around her. She knew she would never truly recover, that his absence would haunt her as surely as his spirit once had. But now, in the quiet, she felt something akin to peace. She would carry him with her, not as a shadow but as a memory, one that would linger just beyond her reach, aching but beautiful. And in that silent darkness, she accepted that she would live with the loss — She would carry his memory, but now, she would do it alone.

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Sunsets and you.



There's a universe in me.
Moonlit beaches and a million constellations. The clouds that take funny shapes every time the wind blows past. Long walks, ice creams and conversations I wouldn't miss for the world. Impulses, mistakes, regret. Solitude, silence. Darkness, demons, pain, fear. Shades of blacks, blues and reds unknown. Wild thoughts, dusk and dawn. Holding on and letting go. Magic, fairy tales that I wish came true. Lows, highs, love, hate. Secret judgements. Kindness, gestures that have my heart. Coldplay, Beetles, Prince and some Biebs. Fire, passion, longings and fantasies. Miracles. Sunsets and you.

There's a universe in me and it belongs to you. 

-Musings of a cynic turned lover.

3 years hiatus. So much has changed. So much hasn't.

Monday, June 30, 2014

She looked up to the heavens, the stars were shining down with not a care in the world. They were more than she could count; more than she could chose from  to make a wish upon. The sand felt soft beneath her feet; soft as silk she thought. She waited.

 He came, his hair windswept. He stood at the edge where the waves kissed goodbye to the silky sand and smiled at her . He has a smile to die for she thought. She reached out to touch his face, to feel the moment when time would stand still. But like a wisp of smoke the winds carried him away; falling into the arms of the night he was gone. He wasn't hers anymore, he only came to bid one last goodbye.

She stood at the edge where he had stood before her and let the icy waves wash her down. She heard them calling out to her. Come with us they whispered in her ears, for there is nothing left for you to keep on. So she let the waves take her away; away from the desolated shore.


She was a star now; shining down on all what she left behind with not a care in the world.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

“For life is about the choices we make. For life is about the journey and not the destination”.


Philosophy that an ignorant like me cannot fathom. But the gist is simple enough. When the going gets tough we all enlighten ourselves with such little titbits to make the heart happy. We appreciate ourselves for what we are and keep going. We look for adventure, we look for love, we look for riches. But very few find what they are looking for. Sometimes we look for one thing and discover something brand new; life changing even. So many choices, so little time. Right? The cynic in me wants to say ultimately we’re all just a bunch of losers chasing after the illusions that present themselves like a kaleidoscope. But the poet in me refutes this with the philosophies I mentioned earlier.
 And who do I choose? The cynic or the poet? Aah, now that certainly explains why life is a matter of choice! And for the latter, Well that’s just something I’m going to tell myself every time I don’t get what I want :D

Wednesday, April 24, 2013


Staying up late into the night watching out the window thinking of all of the people, places and things I love… One Republic’s ‘If I lose myself’ on replay.. And that’s where the inspiration for this blog came from..
A blur of memories both happy and sad.. That feeling of wanting to lose myself in all the goodness of life.. Lately everything’s been so…blah… Striving to rediscover life, experience it from a different angle, do some soul searching. Do the things I want to do. Be the things I want to be. Feel the things I want to feel. Lose myself to me (unlike the song where the singer wants to lose himself beside some “you”). I guess at one point we all get tired of people telling us what to think and what to feel.  

Then I realize. Outside this window is a world fast asleep, but deep inside, wishing to do the same.
  

Sunday, March 17, 2013


Each of us would have, at some point in life, secretly wished for a super power. I definitely have but it kept varying from time to time due to a very strong influence of all those movies I watched. Sometimes I wanted to be a mutant like Jean Grey from the X-men, sometimes I wanted to be Wonder-woman (which I still want to) , and sometimes I wanted teleportation. But the strongest wish that held on through years is the one to fly. Fly with wings like a bird or without wings like superman I wouldn’t mind. Just the very thought of gliding across the clouds under the star-lit sky into the vastness of the horizons gives me the Goosebumps... All the places i could go to and all the nasty bus rides i could avoid and all the evil things i could do *evil grin*
 I’ve heard people say riding a bike or driving gives you a sense of freedom. A liberation from all that’s holding you back. Breaking free and choosing your path. Since I can do neither, I’m just gonna sit here for the time being an build castles in the air about all that I could do if I could fly.. 
Or maybe try some RedBull :P

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Post Birthday Blues


So that’s another year closer to death like a friend of mine mentioned. Another year of experiences, mistakes and all the other related effects of everyday life that I’m going to leave behind. Missed the good old hostel days, the creative cakes and the midnight singing and, I must admit, the thrashing too. Missed what I would call an absolute Gastronomic delight at "karthik mess" (for those who don't know the place, well, it was our 5star hotel :P ). Today’s cake cutting party as well as the treat seemed like an obligation, for them to throw it as well as for me to attend it.
There are two things I’ve realized today. One is no-matter how hard you try to hold onto the past, life goes on. People move on. And you have to learn to live with it. Everything in life is a phase that will pass. Holding onto it would mean a tragic non-acceptance that leads to frustration which in turn leads to pissing off a lot of other people due to all the complaining and crankiness you show. Nobody likes to be a pillow! Nobody gives a damn either. How much can they take anyway..
The second is realizing how amazingly blessed I am. How God has been gracious enough to carry me through all the rough patches in life and walk by my side through all the good ones. I’m so blessed that complaining for what I don’t have would be a sin because there are so many right around me who would wish for half as much. Blessed beyond imagination.

I guess growing old is mandatory but i'm still waiting for enlightenment. 
Do I see some grey already ?? :O