Diary of a Lost Wanderer

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Source: Google Images I met today long after our story had ended. For a moment I could almost feel those strong arms around me hugging me tightly trying to shield me away from every trouble of this world. I could see that smile which my presence brought every time on his face and then suddenly I remembered what I have is memories of someone that he was... not of someone who he is. 

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It's been a while I made any new travel plans but everytime I see any of the pictures my heart does yearn for the unknown. It feels strange to see the sense of belonging a completely new place can give and the fresh smell in it's air which has the aroma of LIFE hanging around it. Those dingy lanes, friendly strangers and those open skies which beckon from every corner do seem tempting but as of now it is the HOME that beckons loud and clear. Home bound for a while before I spread my wings once again to fly towards a new sky!

To understand what you mean to me you need to first understand what life means to a person who knows he is going to die soon!

Tonight as I retire into familiar walls I cannot help but listen to the stories all around. These walls have witnessed so much, some stolen kisses and secret glances....they have even heard some whispered secrets! Most importantly they have seen my anguish, the pain and the hurt in which I have spent nights shedding tears not of defeat but of helplessness. I hugged them just to say thanks for being there.

I would have perhaps known what love is if you would have meant it every time you said "I love you!"

At times in life you meet some people, fall in love with them and grow up making them a part of your life. Suddenly just like that they walk out of you life one fine day leaving you clueless. As neither you have any reasons to hate them nor can you stop loving them any more.

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Some childhood memories are like precious treasures in today's times. You don't want anyone to steal them, but you surely want everyone to see them and envy you. You try to protect them from every possible thing that could cause harm. As much as it is a cause of joy for you there are many occasions when it becomes the cause of pain for you too! Picture Copyright: Privy Trifles

Wearing this today. Gifted to me by a very dear friend every time I wear it, it feels as if she is hugging me. smile emoticon Like I always say we are love hungry souls at the end of the day. We need such reminders of love around in form of memories, gifts, photographs, songs and what not. Picture Copyright : Privy Trifles

Perhaps it isn't about memories. It is about those fragments of us we have left behind never to be claimed back. It is about that broken us who can never be whole again. It is about those cracks that define us in every manner. It is about that heart which still remembers to love, those eyes which shed tears and that us that continues to live despite it all. P.S: While working on my manuscript, these lines just crept on in my mind. 

Finally the day had ended without any news from you. I finally concluded you had lied yet again and left without a trace. Coming to think of it I wondered if you had ever told me the truth. No, it would be wrong to blame you. It was me who could never hear the lies.

I couldn't take my eyes off her tonight. As we all sat around the campfire, holding our teacups tightly half expecting them to warm our insides better than the lit fire I kept staring at her rather awkwardly. Nishigandha or Nishi as she was popularly known as was one of the volunteers in the Citizen's charter I was a part of.  Every month we have such meetings where we discuss the progress made in different states and also the plan further. I need to mention here that we are a group of 25 people in the age group of 28-45 who have voluntarily come together to do something for our state with our own money and efforts.  Surprisingly I cannot recollect my first meeting with Nishi, all I remember is her beautiful brown eyes that shine every time she smiles. Even right now she was smiling. Sitting exactly opposite me she was laughing at some joke shared by one of our co-volunteers. Her smile reached her eyes always and added colour to her cheeks. If you ask me to describe

" Ananya if you don't listen to me and become a bad girl I will leave you and go away ." Even after 20 years she could still hear her mother's terse voice clearly. And today when Rajeev was just talking about his opinion on one of her actions she automatically heard the unsaid too "...I will leave you and go away ." It was wrongly said. Ghosts of the past never die. They continue to haunt you forever.

" I love you.... " He finally managed to whisper as I began walking away from him. 5 years of waiting to hear those three words now felt like nothing. I turned around to see if there was any truth in this words. And since then his eyes have been the only truth I have ever known in this world.

Today I cried because finally I couldn't recognize you. I couldn't find the person I had loved and revered. Instead I saw a person who didn't know the language of love and had never known sentiments. Till date I was standing on the periphery of is and was. But today I finally took the plunge and embraced was for is had become unbearable now.

Today I reached a long lost friend's profile on Facebook and from there began a journey down the memory lane as one after another familiar names started tumbling out. Some known faces, some unknown... trying to put up the best pieces of their lives for display. I smiled looking at their smiles, thinking how far had they reached from what I remember of them last.  Source:  kplr11.com Some were toppers, while some failures in school but today they were standing together as equals on the pedestal of life albeit in different countries. As I tried remembering some fond memories with them, I couldn't reach any. All I remembered was having them around me, perhaps that is why they were and not are in my life.  Just then I noticed something. Facebook was asking me : Do you know XYZ? Send a friend request / message to connect. My smile grew wider as my heart answered, " No I don't know them." And I closed the window. They were nothing of what I remembered them

" I have a past.. ." He managed to whisper finally. "So what? We all do. It is from those ruins of the past that we build mansions of our future. " I replied.  I had been trying to get him open up since long but he simply refused to speak. These four words was the first thing he had spoken in last one hour and it didn't help in any manner. It felt like some cryptic message waiting to be decoded. Working as a counselor this wasn't something new to me, what was new was his calm demeanor.  He had been here since last 2 weeks, brought in by a caring friend who had seen severe suicidal symptoms in him and wanted to save his life. Save his life, we did. All of together. What none of us could do was understand his life. He simply refused to open up to what was gnawing him till today when finally I had managed to enter his good books as a confidante and finally he whispered to me, " No... my future is held as a captive by my past who is threat

By the time I had turned 17, I was convinced I am the worst shrew possible on planet earth. And to top it all, I was sent away from home. They felt it was necessary to teach me few lessons of life. Today when I look back I am glad they did this, but then it made me more lonelier. Away in an alien city with no friends, I was sucked deeper into my own shell. On thinking about it, perhaps the roots for my constant desire to be on my own were sown during this time. I learnt the real meaning of life in this phase which lasted for almost 8 years shaping me into someone I call Me now.

One of the most important lessons I learnt in my three decade old life is: " There is no wound worse than the ones you give yourself! " because it shows how much you hate yourself to have done that.   I faintly remember being bullied all throughout my school and college for a very strange reason - I was too gullible. I remember my worst childhood punishments were when my mom would refuse to speak to me and ensure I was boycotted in the house. That secluded feeling it brought along was worst. I carried that fear so deep within me that till date my worst fear is being avoided/ignored and left alone. And it is because of this that I took into whatever was told to me every single time.  Source:  www.pinterest.com

Source:  inspirenow.com.au Not very long ago I had visited one of my colleague's house and met her parents. She told me later that the first thing her father noticed about me was my hesitant nature. His words made me think. Was that how people perceived me? For I always believed I came across as someone who was very confident and knew what she was doing. That incident triggered a journey down the memory lane. An interview where the interviewer read me like an open book scaring the hell out of me. I still remember his words. " You are too matured for your age. I don't know what has triggered that but there is a reason for it I am sure. You don't have friends of your age, they are either younger or elder. You are very sensitive and emotional which do look like cons but can also act like pros if handled in the right manner. It makes you connect with people instantaneously. You are brave to take your own decisions and face the consequences if you fail. You don

I held onto him tightly to save my life, Not knowing that my saviour himself needed saving. We both drowned. Albeit, in love. 

"Remember you are a star, bright and shining forever !" My father would tell me always before putting me to sleep at night and I would believe him for I saw it in his eyes, the way I shone. What he never told is that even stars have to die to make a wish come true. 

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As I walked down a narrow street today I saw an old couple coming from the opposite end. Wrinkled, fragile they walked hand in hand as if they were each other's walking stick. Holding onto each other for support they made a very pretty picture. We bumped into each other at a small bridge which the old man was vary of stepping on. As I stretched my hand in order to help he extended his hand along with hers held tightly. Maybe this is what they meant when they coined the terms," together forever" and "till death do us apart". P.S: The title of this post is borrowed from Nicholas Spark's book of the same name. I somehow felt it does justice to this sweet tale.  P.P.S: This is a true story.

I stood there long after he had left trying to understand my fault. Nothing made sense to me of all that had happened. Just then his words rang in my ears,” You are and that is my problem. Do you get it now?” I finally had my answer. I was and that was my fault.

I saw him struggling to get up from his bed today, his wobbly feet unable to hold onto his weight. Shaking, he somehow managed to reach the kitchen counter to make tea. His hands were trembling as he added sugar and milk to the boiling water. 

Source: thenextweb.com I have been blogging since last 4.5 years. Every time someone asks me are you an author I always correct them, " No I am a writer!" Wikipedia defines them as An author is broadly defined as "the person who originated or gave existence to anything" and whose authorship determines responsibility for what was created. Narrowly defined, an author is the originator of any written work and can also be described as a writer.  A writer is a person who uses written words in various styles and techniques to communicate ideas. Writers produce various forms of literary art and creative writing.

Source:  family.wikinut.com "It’s over Aryan!" Manisha screamed. " You told me I was your world and promised me we will be together forever, when did it all change?" Aryan asked. " That moment when you stood in front of your wife and blamed me for this affair telling her I forced you into this relationship ." Manisha gritted through her teeth.

Source:  pimminag.com Somewhere in the dusty corners of my room lies a bookshelf. Disheveled, it holds my life within. Hidden far ahead in the corner is a yellowed diary with dog eared pages.  If you flip through it you will reach a page where few petals of a rose are held. That’s me, waiting for you.  I die a slow death everyday pining for you like them and yet survive hoping you would find this diary someday and know what you mean to me.

My mind was like a carbon paper. Every thought that crossed it, left an inedible mark. I was thirty, so you can imagine the amount of thoughts my mind would have gathered till now. Even the counselor was surprised when I could narrate a childhood incident with equal ease like that of yesterday night’s dinner.   “ No wonder you have had a nervous breakdown! It’s a case of system over load. “  “ What do I do? I cannot forget anything. “  “Don’t worry your system has started doing that now. As it is running out of space to store memories it has begun to not save any new memories. ” 

I stared at the sharp needle long before stabbing it into my nerves. It does hurt, but the lack of it hurts more. Love does this often, infects you, and grows into your system like a tumor till there is nothing else left inside. My love for sweets had ensured I got infected with diabetes!

“ I don’t want to live! “He screamed to deaf ears. None of the people present in the room could do anything about it. “ Get a grip on yourself. Seven years is too long a time! ” they said. He agreed,” Seven years is too long a time to be spent confined on the bed like this .”

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Source:  gallery.mobile9.com My mother would always say,” You are born alone and you die alone. You don’t need anyone else. There is no right or wrong way of living it as long as you live. You are enough my son! ” I never realized the real meaning of her words till someone asked me my father’s name.

Source:  commons.wikimedia.org What if I had not told you how I feel about us that night! Perhaps we would still have been together.  Perhaps life would have still been the same for us, existing together under the same roof. Existing for me and living for you!  Perhaps that piece of paper with a red stamp that is lying on my desk waiting for me to sign it, would have not existed at all.  Maybe the unsaid words that have been interpreted by our own choices and the ones said, had not hung so uncomfortably between us today.  Maybe I could have averted the constant stares I attract now whenever I go out.  Maybe the hurt I feel in my heart every night as I cry myself to sleep wouldn’t have shown any signs of healing ever. Maybe the scars on my body, mind and soul would have merged together finally to make a chaotic collage of me.  Maybe I would have died a bit every single say till the time there was nothing left in me to exist anymore.

Source:  answersafrica.com “ Don’t! Love can only hurt you, make you cry and tear you beyond repair .” They said. I smiled and asked, “ What doesn’t on this earth? ”  After all the hurt, tears and pain perhaps this will be the only thing which will seem worth it all, making me want to love again and again and again.

Since the time I could remember I was in love with sketching. As a kid I have fond memories of colouring the walls of my house with random scribbling. As I grew up I learnt the art of sketching, polished it further and finally became an artist, a tattoo artist ; for I saw the whole world as my canvas, open, inviting, asking me to come hither and paint them with my vivid imagination.  Source:  tattoo-butterfly-news.blogspot.com

And today once again I remembered you. Nothing special, off late everything and anything reminds me of you.  Today it was the sunlight playing with the leaves of this tree that reminded me of you. It somehow felt just like your touch, that tenderness with which you would caress my hair as I lay in your lap for hours together without a worry about anything in the world.

Source: www.theguardian.com " Hold me tight! " She remembered having gushed once to him as he tenderly pulled her closer. Since this his grip kept getting tighter day by day strangling her identity in bits and pieces till there was nothing left of her. She never realized it until today when her mirror reflected a stranger back at her.