He wasn’t a villain in her life. He was a savior in disguise.

Ishq par zor nahi, hai yeh wo aatish Ghalib… Jo lagaye na lage, Jo bujhaye na bujhe. …..As she sits with an ink pen and a slightly wet piece of paper, he waits for her to forget him, forever. Both of them were good friends. She considered him her best friend, he did not and he…

Creator and her Creation

 You read a poem, a prose, you drown in the sea of emotions, you like it, you fall in love with it. You mug it up, consume it for yourself and leave it! You know something, no art piece, a text or a music composition could be made magnificently amazing unless it doesn’t involve some colour…

She confessed it, but not to hear it back

He once mocked at her, saying “You know you should give your imaginative stories to ‘Manohar Kahaniyan’. I am sure they’ll love it”. Little did he know they all had one brick of their foundation from his wall- from his ‘real’ wall of life. She had read ‘The Dead Poets Society’ lately; and that one…

MAY BE…

May be I would have accepted the fate of my unrequited love.
Or may be would have moved on….
May be I would have just let you go…
Or may be I myself would have long gone!