poem

The Flashbulb Memory

He traced her skin with his fingertips.

He placed a kiss on her lips,

With time, those lips…travelled closer to her hips,

He made her grow up.

Gave her so much to remember,

But where is he now?

His lips tracing the skin of another girl,

His eyes smiling at another one,

Where is he now?

She doesn’t know.

 He was the beginning,
Of her sexual awakening,

He broke her chains,

Liberated her till she took on her own reins.

He is gone, faded from her existence.

Buried inside the broken echos of  her memory.

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Love is a lie.

“Love is comfort food for the weak and the uneducated.”

Love is a lie,

Friendship is a lie.

All of such pointless, mortal attachments have no meaning. If you think it through, what is the point of life? I mean, I know it is pointless…but if it is indeed pointless, then why can’t we life in the we way crave to. Human relationships personify the vicious bondage of the soul. 

It is through the life of cold, hard observation and mental note-making, I have finally reached this conclusion. The icy rationality should always take precedence of feelings, which is basically our fluctuating hormones. The way medicines have side-effects, Love is a side-effect of those fluctuating hormones.

For a brief moment, even the most thinking oriented, solitary loon falls into the vague trap of love: a trap that lures you in with songs of great pain and beauty, catchy lyrics. A trap that lures you in through cheesy telly commercials and through dumb chick-flicks. 

All kinds of relationships which are based on this concept of love, have one thing in common,i.e, Power Play. The one who cares least wins. So do yourself a favour…and believe me when I say: You are the only one who loves you the way you should be loved. Do not base the amount you love yourself based on the behaviours of others towards you. You are good for you, how does the thought of that random stranger even matter?

It doesn’t. It never did and never will.

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