For him She was a gulal, intoxicating and full of life.. N for her he was the Holi, full of colors,full of emotions her favorite and her identity.



She lied down and hovered into the mystic land of memories. As the Vast Arry of colors played Holi in the sky, she marvelled the beauty of the northern hemisphere. For the first time in a decade she felt connected to herself. The pink, green ,red,and streaks of violet  amalgamation in the sky matched the after Holi image of her Banaras. She realized the sky was playing tribute to her land . The sparks of electron and proton far away from the sun were creating the vivid illusion of colors flying in the air. The only difference was they could not color her body with their light. Yet they wore an uncanny resemblance with the colors , they dyed her soul with a happiness that had lost its touch from her life. The Game of colors over her head was like a show of fire works. Sometimes they brust into fits of color and sometimes like a rongoli arrange themselves into a pattern. So foreign yet in a sense so indigenous. His Words rang in her ear “wherever we may be , we would be connected. If by nothing else ,This sky will always be our roof”. She smiled. Her cheeks turned red. Somewhere far away the blue eyes of his saw the merry colors of yellow. Her fellow travelers saw the green of jealous seeing her. All the colors were there in her life ; perfectly arranged in a pattern to make the rainbow ashemed of its pride. But this wasn’t all. Her life didn’t have Her favorite black or his favourite white. Smiling she got transported to the Days she left behind.. To the days when she used to complain why aren’t they allowed to use  black and white colors in Holi…. And finally to the days when she got her answers within the questions..

🎭 10 years ago🎭

With the Dhol beating the thunders and the ‘pichkaris’ challenging the rain ,Bhang and paan took charge of  the new job offered to them i.e to paint the city in such a combination of colors that would put any modern art to shame. It was the day when people would get drunk by colors. Gulalls would intoxicate people only by spreading their color. Sweets , dance , music, and unlimited fun filled with crazyness was the essence of Holi. Holi wasn’t just a festival, for her it was an emotion . But unfortunately he was afraid of emotions. Theirs wasn’t a match made by cupid. They were arranged by the family, A couple made in heaven as they liked to say. It wasn’t her first Holi with him . By  this time she had known how he dreaded being dyed with colors. He was the Ultimate perfectionist who could not tolerate a single dot of mismatch, n it was a matter of his white kurta getting dyed in Gulalls . She Laughed imagining the scowl on his face when she would apply him color. This was her last Holi in India. She would have to go to abroad for higher studies. She didn’t know when she would get enough holidays to come back to him. So, she was determined to color him with her love. 

As a self established ritual, her Holi starts with him. So, After changing into white shalwar and suit She went to the Mandir. After doing Aarti she painted the feet of her elders. When she came to her room in search of him, he was no where to find. She smiled knowing he would be hiding behind the water tank on the roof top. So she started ascending the stairs. In a slow and calculated steps she covered the staircase without making any detectable sound. She went to the water tank and “boo” . But he wasn’t there. She got worried called his name. There was no response. She panicked for a moment. She hurridly stepped back as someone started calling her. When she was about to come out of the tank someone put a bucket of violet water on her. Shocked she started shouting. She wasn’t irritated by the sudden brust of colors. She was irritated coz it wasn’t him who had colored her first. She was dripping wet but she wasn’t the one to let it go. She threw the Vermillion in the direction of the attack. And ran down the stairs. She thought of going in search of him but someone dragged her out. Once she got engaged in the preparation she forgot herself. She danced into the beats of dhol. Danced with everyone and anyone who matched steps with her.But once in a while she felt restless. It seemed She couldn’t feel safe without him . Though there was color flying everywhere,she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy the festivities. By the passing of time she grew more and more restless.. Children were running here and there throwing water balloons at each other. People were changing their masks. They were throwing everyone into the mud . Some were drinking bhangs and ladies were busy in dancing. They were smiling and enjoying. That’s what she liked about Holi. Every one forget their worries and enjoy themselves to the fullest. Though colored with gulals they seemed to drop their maks. There was no awakardness , no boundaries , no restriction. Holi was the perfect illusion of life god created for human. Wild, untamed , crazy and full of life.But it seems what he thought of Holi was a bit of hallucination. She Couldn’t be carefree without being with him.He was the protective shield for her. He used to guard her so, she could play a safe holi. Without him the whole Festival seemed colorless to her.Within a few minutes someone would come to her and apply color on her. She would fake a smile and repeat the gesture. When needed she even faked a smile or two. She tried his number but it showed out of coverage area. She started sensing a nervous attack. It had been lunch hour. N there was no trace of him since the morning. She took a few sips of thandai and bhang to calm her nerves . Without thinking she stepped out of the gate. She went to The Ghat to their spot. Where they used to sit and plan about their future. Again there she found herself to be alone. There was no Sign of him. But his aura was there. She could sense it . She smiled . Relief flooded through her. As she took a few steps ahead She stumbled upon someone. The sudden reflex of punching him in the gut was somehow turned into the sudden desire of slapping him hard. Without thinking twice she slapped him across his cheek. He was there in all his 6 ft glory smiling and welcoming all her angry outbrusts. Finally when she came to her sense she angryly threw her arm up in the air and with a sound of frustration stumped her feet in the sands. All the while he remained there watching her Various displays of moods . For him She was a gulal, intoxicating and full of life.. N for her he was the Holi, full of colors,full of emotions her favorite and her identity. They were so in love with each other. She was incomplete without him. The sound of chaotic murmures intrupted her train of thoughts . She came to her senses. There he was, in all his 6ft glory but not standing, lying on the river bank. Then she looked around and found they weren’t alone. He was wet and someone had painted him red on the head …

*A few days later* 
As someone threw a water balloon towards her ,She stared down at her saree. It was dripping wet but there has been no color on it. As she came out of her trance she took in her surroundings. She realized she was dreaming about a life she had left behind her. Now the widow home was her new residence and the white saree was her new identity. She smiled at the irony.She was wearing his favourite colour but he wasn’t there to appreciate. Her life had taken the shades of her favorite color but she could no longer approve. She realized Holi doesn’t include the two colors as they are the combination of all. Sometimes all these colors disappear from our life making it Blanche. And sometimes in a Newton’s disc they mix with each other to give white light. Sometimes all the gulals mix to create the darkest shade of black and as we go deeper into the fact they actually don’t reflect any light making it black.  How much we may say we all have different shades , in the end our life gets summarised under either of these two. Black or white. Good or bad, Gay or sad. Her last Holi was the last of her interaction with the colors . The last memories of her land. As they Washed down the Vermillion from her head and the colors on her dress ran away along with the water, she wiped away all the colors from her life. 

Back to 2017.

As the glorious display came to an end with the horizon bringing the new rays of hope along with the rising sun, her flash back came to an end. She sighed . After his departure she never had any courage to return to her city. Though she had knowingly avoided colors she couldn’t restrict her heart. Holi may mean many things to many people. But for her Holi still meant him. She was devoid of colors as she didn’t have any trace of him. She was denied of any attachment towards it as she could no longer associate herself with him,  yet she couldn’t restrict her heart against him. For her Holi means only him .



The Missing Strings 

… How much even you try life always comes with some Missing Strings.”

A/N – Anyone’s resemblance of their real life is mere coincidence, it hasn’t been targeted to anyone’s personal life. Something for a light reading and something which might make us realize the importance of relations in our real life.                   

As I stand in front of the mirror, by the side of the most beautiful woman of my life cladded in maroon lehenga adorned with some beautiful golden zari works and with the slightest hint of makeup, tears filling up my eyes I wish she could see me. To me, both of us are standing in front of the mirror but to her, it was just her. I am as much visible to anyone as love, it exists but no one has seen it. Today is the most special day of her life and yet the tears of unhappiness color my face. I hear footsteps nearing the bridal room and as a matter of habit, I turn to hide behind the curtain, as I always did, just to realize that I can’t be seen. Her mother enters and waves her hand over her face, as a part of the belief to keep her safe and healthy, and hugs her tightly. Before leaving she looked around and whispered into the thin air, “How I wish he was there! “. I heard. My heart wrenched, I wanted to shout out aloud, wanted to scream so loud that people could hear me out, but.

The gorgeous bridesmaids arrived and took her with them to the mandap, for the rituals to begin. I was standing by the pillar witnessing every ritual. With the beginning of each ritual I had a feeling of my heart skipping a beat, every beat made me feel how distanced and detached I am from her. The part of the rituals which hurt me the most was when her mother offered her hand to the groom, entrusting her daughter to the groom, symbolizing the couple’s love and taking vows to be with each other forever.  How I wish it was my hand there. As the rituals were nearing their closure  SHE was becoming HIS forever. This time around tears did roll down from both of our eyes. The difference was, hers were for leaving behind her world and entering a new one with her love of life while mine for already letting go of someone I have lost forever.

The last of the rituals was the “Bidaai”, while she was clinging to her near ones I stood there silently crying and taking in the power and strength of the moment. After hugging and weeping hard against the shoulders of her mother she paused for a moment as if reliving her past and cried even more. I knew who it was for. I was the person missing from the entire event. She was missing the first man in her life, she is missing me.

“Papa” she breathed! My heart broke into pieces. Even if I wanted to I couldn’t go near her, couldn’t hold her in my arms. This was the very first time I cursed my death. My daughter is crying for me and I am not there for her. All this happened in a flash of a second and then Nitin came in, “It’s okay Nivi, I am there for you!”

“I know you will be there for her, in every step of her life from now on. You shall be her protector, you won’t leave any leaf unturned to make her happy but my dear boy there are times when she will need her papa! And I will never be able to reach her. This is what saddens me, this is the worst part for not being there for your loved ones. How much even you try life always comes with some Missing Strings.” and these words remained unheard. With one last glimpse of the house, she got into the car. As the car left I kept on looking until it faded away and all I was staring at was a dark endless road.

~Smaranika Dash

Solace to the Soul… 

it has crossed my mind a billion times of asking him to let me be a permanent part of his life but the idea of rejection has always pushed away those thoughts, so it did today. Maybe today isn’t the right day.

A/N- Any resemblance to anyone’s personal life is a sheer co-incidence. The aim is not to target anyone’s love life but to hoosh the taboos of our societies.

Happy Reading Folks!

From where I stand I see a silhouette of a tall man, some six feet two-three inches tall, in his forties, looking across the valley amidst the setting sun searching for answers to the questions he has been asking himself for the past few years. And I know all he is being able to find is the reason for self-doubt and remorse. I have been a part of his life for the last three years, I have seen him face some ugly truths of life and some situations beyond the control of human emotions. But his dark clouds were swayed away by bright sunshine, his two little packets of joy Harsh and Avni. He did win the case of their custody, he parted his way from his wife, but there was this guilt of separating his kids from their mother. Little did he know his little angels were indeed his angels, they always stood up for their father. With all these incidents turmoiling their lives they moved to Chicago, that’s when we met, again.

In a short time, I became a part of their life. From helping them settle in the “Heart of America” to guiding him apply for universities, in helping the baby grownups find a school to dining with them on special occasions. With time, these occasional meetings started becoming frequent. And then I was there with them 24 hours, inseparable. Harsh and Avni had started building up a pleasant rapport with me, they were by far the best bunches I had come across.

The Earth kept spinning about its axis and revolving around the Sun and swiftly the days turned to months, we started getting closer. What I thought to be an infatuation started blossoming into love. This wasn’t a thing of mere months, it was a bond I had with him at first sight, when we first met, back in India. His tall figure, his stature, his confidence and humble attitude had intrigued me. The only difference is that he was a happy married man then, now he’s just another man in the pursuit of happiness.
And now, I stand here today looking at him and shifting my gazes between him and the ring in my hand, it has crossed my mind a billion times of asking him to let me be a permanent part of his life but the idea of rejection has always pushed away those thoughts, so did it today. Maybe today isn’t the right day. It’s like gravity when you release something it comes back to the ground that’s how science works. With people, if you set them free and they return to you then it’s yours forever, but if it doesn’t, maybe you are just on the wrong planet or he wasn’t the one, to begin with. Pushing away these thoughts as I walk towards him, slowly closing the spaces between us I suddenly hear him whisper my name. I keep my hand on his shoulder assuringly that I am here, have always been here, will always be here.
He looks back adjusting his glasses, smiling, he points at my messy hair unaware of his own. His stare hardens as if he is trying to say something, my lashes dropped instinctively giving him the permission to speak his heart out.
Sliding his hand into his pant pockets, he shows a ring and slides in my finger, “I have done this before yet I am more than ready to do it again. I have had once given my heart and soul to someone who was dear to me, more than anything else, yet I am here today asking you to mend my broken existence. Will you be the Mandrake to my petrified soul ?”
Tears welled up in our eyes slowly finding their way out, they escaped. It was different, cold surrounding, racing hearts, warm tears. “Yes!” I whispered, “only if you promise to be Professor Sprout and help me grow.” The light sobbings turned into a hearty laughter. I slid the ring I bought him. We stood there for a few minutes, arm in arm. I don’t know about the forever thing, but whatever happened today was meant to happen and it somehow made me feel complete. Hazel Grace’s words seemed to be true, I did live a forever in those numbered minutes.


La Pluie

I smiled and I cried. I smiled over my fate, I cried over the death of my beautifully woven dreams . I smiled that finally I got to touch her; I cried that I couldn’t get to talk to her. Smiling, crying, sobbing I remained there, Taking in all the scenes and remenscing about my life.

The Sun was playing hide and seek with the clouds. Clouds that were hovering over my head like dark monsters. It could rain anytime. I thought I have to rush, or else I would be dripping wet from the down pour. 
At the distance the bell rung. Students claded in uniform ran outside the gate. And to my bad luck it started raining. I ignored the impact on me. The sight infront of me was marvelous. The students were running out of the gate forming a sea of grey and white. The white of their uniform appeared like the foam on the waves. And the irregular pattern of the students created the illusion of ripples . The rain added charm to it . I was mesmerized. I stood there and waited for her. It was nothing new for me, I have been waiting for her for the last 2 years. Here in this cycle stand , day after day , only to see a glimpse of my dream. 

I cherished everymoment I got to see her beauty. She was like a soothing breath to my chaotic life. The school was going to be closed for the Autumn break. I would have to wait for 15 days to see her next glimpse. I was anxious, I was restless. It was raining , I had no means of protection. I was wet , I was shivering , but these small hurdles could never create any obstacle in my way to get her glimpse for the last time…

But suddenly The gate keeper Saw me there. when I saw he was coming towards me I tried to hide. Actually I was so absorbed in her thoughts that I couldn’t sense someone (the gate keeper) watching me. It had been two long years, still I hadn’t been caught yet. That day everything seemed to go wrong. Watching my failed attempts at hidding from him, the gate keeper must have taken me as a thief. Not that my clothes could have hinted otherwise. 

I was a thin boy. Pale by complexion or insufficient blood, no one can tell. By no one I wasn’t indicating doctors. since I have never met one, I couldn’t really comment on their skills. That would be unfair. Trust me I know what “unfair” means. I admit I have never been to a fancy school like this but they say experience is the best teacher. I know how it feels when someone becomes unfair towards us. sometimes fate becomes unfair and even sometimes our own parents too. And my whole life has been unfair to me. Having witnessed those feeling I would never intentionally pull someone into that hole .Even today luck wasn’t in my favor. The gate keeper found me.

Having thought me a thief he slapped me hard. My cheeks burnt. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation. Every now and then I got beaten . The slap was nothing in comparison to the physical abuse and pain I get daily. 

What hurt me more was the embarrassment. He slapped me infront of the crowd. Called me names. Insulted my parents. I was embarrassed. I was used to beating , for I deny to sell my Integrity and values by stealing or begging. But today he was questioning my character. I tried to speak but he again stroke me hard against my cheeks. I tasted iron, along with salt. 

I was too afraid to raise my gaze. A crowd had been clustered there. “She might be watching me. What would she think if she sees me like this. The situations weren’t in my favor . She would think I am a thief . They might hand me over to the police. All my hopes would get shattered. she would never accept me”. These were the thoughts echoing in my brain. 

My brain stopped working. My body became numb, partly due to the chill and rain outside. And partly due to the tremor of pain and embarrassment inside. I dropped to my knees . I didn’t know whether I cried or I shouted. I tugged his hand . Tried to explain him everything but all my attempts went in vain. 

The crowd watched me with curiosity and disgust. Murmures were going on. I was too dumb struck to comprehend those silent talks. Some boys were hooting for the gatekeeper to strike me again. Some girls were ‘aww’ing and cooing . Every one was witnessing the scene. 

A kind face appeared from the crowd. The crowd departed and she made a bee line toward me. There she was, in all her shinning glory and serene smile. She had came to my rescue. If I die today I would have no regrets. She believed in me , that’s why she has came to me. That was a the moment of relief in my years of pain.
But I was mistaken. She was followed by her Principal. She didn’t even acknowledge me. Pointing towards me she said something. I didn’t understand a thing. Or should I say I didn’t wish to understand. Judging by her look I could tell that this would be the last time I was going to see her, despite of the fact that this was the first time I got to watch her from so close. She was like the moon to me. Beautiful, Smart, intelligent , elegant and classy. She was all that I wasn’t and all I wanted to be. She was the definition of perfection and yet she was the reason behind my destruction. I drank in her beauty, like a chakor drinks in the serenity of moon . I tried to remember every details of her. I tried to paint her image in brain. I tried to write her in the chords of my heart  so that when ever it will beat it would encore  her rythm .  I tried to feel her in every inch of my body. The crave to be held by her was overpowering. I couldn’t resist any longer. I knew this would be the last time I got to see her. They might send me to jail or might make me go. But one thing was sure I won’t be allowed to the school permisess. So I gave in to the urge. Slowly I raised my hand. I reached towards her, Touched her feet. As I touched her feet ;two drops of tears rolled down my cheek. This was the “dream came true” moment of my life. I was touching the feet of my mother. I have imagined it in a lot of ways. But never once in my life this possibility had occurred to me. Hell! life is unpredictable. well in a sense it’s not. I should have known it would be never too fair towards me. I smiled and I cried. I smiled over my fate, I cried over the death of my beautifully woven dreams . I smiled that finally I got to touch her; I cried that I couldn’t get to talk to her. Smiling, crying, sobbing I remained there, Taking in all the scenes and remenscing about my life. I sat there untill she jerked her feet away. she looked down at me. Something flickered in her eyes. Having been a teacher for some years now, she must have learnt how to read the languages of eyes. My eyes full of tears spoke volumes to hers. She stared at me. then looked away. 
I wasn’t angry on her. She was bounded , She was bounded that time too when she had abandoned me thinking I would be better off as an orphan than a basta*d. I understand her and I understand her reasons. I returned to the reality. The principal had taken her decision. she was handing me over to the police. 
I looked at her, my mother. Finally she broke the silence asked me where do u live!? I gave her the address of the orphanage where she had left me 13 years back. For a passing Second I saw a light of realization there. she talked to her Principal. They mutually agreed to send me to that hell again.

That day the rain washed away all my hopes . My wings were heavy from the weight of my broken dreams. That day the rain not only wetted my body it drenched my soul.still I found solace in the rain. I was not alone in the crowd . The sky was crying for me. No one could see the hot tears burning my in eyes in the cold drops of rain. For me it was like her. The rain had always reminded me of her. Only I got to know now, that they both are the synonyms of each other. She and the rain;the two martyers  of my life who  betrayed me every time I relied on them.

The lighting stroke, tearing apart the dark clouds; and somewhere deep in my heart a ray of hope flickered.  As I sat on the van with the gate keeper, I looked into her eyes and the look in her eyes told me, from there on my life was going to be a little bit less unfairer towards me. 

                                        _ 🎭Nayana🎭

Wishing upon Candles

​He waited for 3 long hours. He waited for her, without knowing whether she would be elated to see him or would be mad at him. He waited with a belief. A belief that told him that his wait for her is finally going to over. He had treasusered her in his heart. It has been a year since he had left her , but his heart had always bleed for her. Wherever he had gone he had felt restless and incomplete.There wasn’t a day when he hadn’t looked at her photo.It was a nagging feeling that she might learn how to live without him. If his worst nightmares comes true,what would he do!!

With a sigh He waited for her with the cake. 

It was her b’day. 


It was her b’day

She was with her friends . But all her thoughts were revolving around him.  She closed her eyes and wished upon the candles that atleast , atleast for that day she could get a glimpse of him . When she opened her eyes he was there .. He was there holding her cake .
She couldn’t believe her eyes. She bite her tongue to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She ran to him . Hugged him tight .
 As the Army officer took his daughter into his warm embrace he thanked the God for safeguarding her in his absence. 


A/N- This is a small write-up dedicated to the adventure enthusiasts out there, who should believe in the saying, “Lights will guide you home.” There have been mentions about Harry Potter characters and all the credits to JRo for the beautiful book and Chris Martin and Coldplay for the song Fix You from where the inspiration for the title has been drawn.

Happy Reading folks!

As he walked under the starry night sky the only sounds audible were the rustling of the dry leaves and howling of wolves from a distance. As the pace of their howling increased progressively, his grip on the stick firmed and his steps became more calculated and he started walking slowly. He kept lingering around for a while and finally heaved a sigh of relief as the howling faded away. He sat on the ground covered with the leaves from the fall, his imagination running wild about what a blissful sight will it be in the morning when the golden rays of the sun will fall on these leaves and everything around will be a bliss, a golden bliss, so pious and pure- amber like. He looked at the night sky, the twinkling stars who are already dead by the time their lights reached us, the calm porcelain like moon faintly and feebly illuminating the dark clouds around. The clouds appeared to be in the form of a Phoenix grasping for the only source of light in the ocean of darkness. He didn’t realize how his thoughts drifted swiftly from the Saint-like night sky to fading bokeh of city lights. He had always admired life in metro cities, before readying himself for this journey little did he know about the kind of solace and content one could find in these woods. He used to be someone who sternly disliked disorderliness or when things certainly didn’t fall into places, but today he lies on the fall leaves definitely uncertain about his next step. To steady his mind he started thinking about fictions in a situation similar to him and all that came to him was Ron Weasley, how he had abandoned Harry and Hermione during their hunt for Hallows. How fervently he hoped he had a deluminator like Ron had, as much he enjoyed this night that much he wanted to escape it, run away from it and reach somewhere, anywhere.

He indeed wished for a deluminator, at least it could have guided him somewhere safer because zooming in and out of his imaginations were all sorts of negative thoughts. He didn’t realize how much of a pessimistic had he become in the last few hours, the Kingdom of solace started to appear to him bleak and inhospitable, his fears were surfacing rapidly. This fear was like a dementor, squeezing out and sucking up his happiness, he started feeling cold. Gathering all of his strength he thought of all the good things that have happened to him until now, his work, his colleagues, little did it do to uplift his spirit and then he finally focussed hard on the three faces who were precious to him and all the moments he shared with them shuffled at the back of his brain, he slowly closed his eyes and his home came into view, he started reminding him of all the good memories there and somewhere in his mind lights floated, he smiled faintly and a lone tear escaped, it was like someone had cast a Patronus charm which drove away the Dementors from him. He crouched and sported a rugged breathing. When he lifted his head up he intently looked into the darkness which seemed to have swallowed up almost everything in the woods, when he saw a flicker of light from a distance. He sat frozen at the spot ardently expecting to see the flicker again and there it was. A dim source of light, swaying left to right because of the light breeze maybe. He suddenly felt warmth in his heart which radiated to the entire body and he appeared to have regained his strength. He packed his stuff and started following the dim shimmering light. The lights were coming from a lantern hung outside an isolated house, maybe it was the only inhabited place in the neighborhood. He knocked thrice on the front door and an old person with shiny long pearly white hair, flowing beard, around hundred, opened it inviting him inside as if he already knew someone was about to come. Getting in he could smell porridge and soup. There beside the cooking pot lay two plates, flabbergasted he turned around in a questioning look asking how he knew there was going to be someone accompanying him today. Giving the enthusiast adventurer a slightly smirked smile the old individual with flowing beard said, “LIGHTS WILL ALWAYS GUIDE YOU HOME”

~ Smaranika Dash

A piece of mind and love for Two .

Love is a puzzle,Love is a guide.
Love is flame,
That keeps us alive.
In the rain or in the night
It’s all one could think of when
Everything in us burns inside.

Sometimes I wonder is it possible to be in love with two people simultaneously!! Is it possible to share your heart with two different people. Then I go on thinking, thinking of people I know, thinking of stories I have read , thinking of movies I have watched. When some of them say yeah! U can; some of them totally discard the idea of it. Some say “In life u have have to find the missing piece of puzzle that would complete it”. well what if two pieces are missing!?? Can’t it be a possibility. Some say ” the person who understands u the best is the right person to fall in love with”. But many a times no one understands me. N sometimes more than one people understand me. So in that case what to do!! Being a realistic girl(self proclaimed) I think it depends upon your conversational and expressional skill to make people understand you. Then again sometimes I do foolish things like I mislead people, knowingly , to see if they could decode my poly or not!! And sometimes I act childish, hidding my feelings and expecting some one to unearth them. I mean, come on!! People are not mind readers. Their behavior, expectancy all depends upon the way they know us. So how can one understand me when I let him know the only half of me. 

Admit it or not. We all are grey. None of is shadeless. But we want all to view us in a monochrome. Create a image of us that basically is only the image of a fraction of us. Even if someone shows his shades that’s because of his fear of consequences or due to some weakness of his. But even in the shades the crave for love doesn’t get intermixed with the shadows of past. 

So!! Why that crave !? And when there is love from two people then what’s irrational in it. The answer is conscinece and satisification. We being humans, all we want to is to be understood. We live in a hypothetical land of fairytales that lead us to believe that someone out there is taking breaths only coz of us. We take pride in that. We don’t expect everyone to understand us, the expectations come from a person who has been close to us. There is nothing like “the heart” and “the brain”. The heart is the mixture of all the moral values,beliefs ,some blood and hormones . While “the brain” is a suspension where the logics,recent facts, experiences are suspended in the ocean of ages of education we have received. And the conflict between the brain and the heart is actually the struggle between the age old believes and the recent facts. When someone suits to either of these two and we feel the reason behind their closeness is out of general circumstances we name it as an”out of the world feeling-Love”. Now coming back to the point , is it possible for a person to be in love with two people simultaneously!!!? I would say yes. Don’t agree!! Ask yourself don’t u love both of your parents!! . Yeah yeah I know that’s a different kind of love. NO! Thats not a different kind of love. There is nothing like “kinds of love”. It’s just that we know there would be no problem loving both of them simultaneously. But when it comes to love someone out of your circle the problems arises. We are scared that we can’t satisfy them . We feel guilty. Coz we know these two people are not perfect mismatch. We know we can’t handle two lives at a time. But what if we figure out a way to!! But it would be infidelity. It all comes back to the vows. The promises and the conscinece. So here we are again! Why Love can happen twice but not simultaneously. 

That’s not all my views. But yeah a part of it. It keeps changing though. Thank you for reading.