The Burden of Expectation

She was just a star, waiting for her wish. He was looking for his North Star. They weren't wrong, just that they were different. Their hopes and expectations from life ran parallel to each other, never coming in touch, but never really going away. Like an intense emotion that you had subverted for so long that now there was no burning pain, just a constant melancholy of thoughts chipping away. But even the stars weren't visible on a cloudy night, and he was left with the dripping drops of words.

He was surprised that he was thinking about her. He was surprised, more so, because she came unannouced, just like she did in his life. She wasn't the dusk or the dawn that he knew would break at a certain time, she was unexpected, like the storm everyone warned him about, but nobody was really prepared to hold her. 

He was expecting liberation, she was expecting otherwise. The night was long and dark and he was happy, even momentarily. So, he thought to let the world know. He did.

Even the night has its color. You see, when you are placed in a dark situation, you become aware of so many more things that you previously didn't figure out. You realize that it isn't quite black - it's red. A very angry red, but not something that will make you feel wary.

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The overcrowded bus stop wasn't enough to quell the thoughts he was getting in the overcrowded mind. There were two possibilities his tomorrow held. 

She could be with him, smiling her beautiful smile, or he could lose her. The latter made him almost take the bus and not miss it. But the thought of seeing her, even for the last time was a thought he liked. 

Soon she was there, with a book held close to herself and firm steps towards him. He had to tell her, he had pictured this conversation a million times. He had to tell her. 
It was the night that had a burning rage to unload on hapless people, but you know that only you could see the night. You suddenly realized that you weren't alone and that there was hope, hope for the dawn to break and this storm to end.

He wanted to love her, unconditionally. He wanted to troll the world with her, to see the world with her, his world, their world. He was willing to better himself and he was going to do it. There was no stopping him. 

There was their future, no matter the past that he was deeply ashamed of. But he hoped that she'd love him for the man that he'd become, not what he put through to become that. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, he had to meet her that night.

We cannot be friends. I don't want to be your friend. I cannot be the one who sees you off with some other guy and see you guys to a glorious sunset. I am a terrible guy? Fine, be it. I want to be selfish, for you, for us. I want to wake up by your side and see you wake up to the world. I want to have a bunch of kids and shit tonne of grandkids. I want to troll them with you and I want us to enjoy every sunset like it's the last. You are my sunset, you are my north-star, you are the silence between my words, my prayers, my hope. You are my one last shot at life and I want to be your lover. Before you say your next words which, if not what I am expecting, could ruin two things - our friendship and me. Say either a yes or walk away.

The cacophony of the world drowned for a moment. He was staring at a smile.

Caught in the Crossfire

It's been a while. It's been a while, this feeling of unhurriedness. This feeling of unfettered darkness, of strangled emotions and minced words. Darkness that is warm, one that is comforting, soothing, killing. The world seems a tad bit weary, grappling with the last few drops of the vertiable 'honey' before even it succumbs to the cucoon of regrets, hope and mysery.

The ever-closing walls have never been so threatening and yet it always brings me to the surrealism of the moment and how the words that flow through my vein control me and have a vice like grip, enough to make me choke, enough to make me beg them to scream. I write words and a whole lot of them but they aren't able to fill the silence between them.

Isn't it weird? That how important silence is? No amount of words can fill the silence between them, for they'd lose their value or worse, cease to exist altogether! Yet, here we are - from the inconsiderate inaccuracies that we bullshit ourselves in to subvert the actions that we'd decided to take when we started out. All that can wait now, all that can go into a veritable hell or from wherever it came from. I have you in my thoughts. I have you.

The gleeful laughter greets me as I course through your words on a 5-inch screen. Your emoticons are trying to betray your emotions and yet I can see that you've held on, that you have chosen us over ourselves. I am happy and the world is at peace. The raging storm has stalled a bit and the view is absolutely beautiful - dark clouds hovering over the horizon and a calm cold breeze of freedom embraces you and promises to do away the pain and the drought of moments in my life.

The curve around your lips, the wings around your eyes, they speak more than you. There is this desperate urge to touch you, to tell you that you have shone your light into the darkest corridors of my heart and the love, the hauntingly beautiful love is all I want to pray to. You assure me of the days you will wake up in my arms, your gleamy eyes cupping my dreams. You assure me that these nights of loneliness, of this calm melancholy would soon be gone and we'd be together.

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But it's time for you to leave, time for you to find your own reasons to judge my love, my actions and my inactions. It's time for you to be the dangerous song I fell in love with in the first place. It's time for you to reclaim your lights, your sky. I am happy with the darkness and I am happy with my stars. 

If only you could take this silence that I have fallen in love with too. If only you took away the stillness in happiness. The silence seems ever winning in this race against the clock and I don't even have your hand to reach out to, anymore. Perhaps this was necessary. Perhaps, there was more to us and ourselves. With out hopes and dreams and thoughts and prayers, we wanted to be someone to some, those whom, even though we didn't really need, we wanted anyway.

Author note: Anxiety-attacks are real. Talk, share and educate. 

#DadGoals: Dad and Son Sing Frank Sinatra Together

This is probably the cutest video around this year's Father's day. Sure, their skills might not be perfect but the point is this is something absolutely wonderful and I thought to share it with you guys! Enjoy!

Raising a Toast to Life

We are all here – our aspirations, our words, our people, even those who don’t quite like us. There are those who are ready to write us down, but then, they are all here and we can’t see them off. Throughout your day, they are there, with their words and their anger reeking through your veins as you smile and reply to another email at work, attending another meeting which could have been done over a call instead. You are suffering through your day and there is just no way out of it. You wish to get away from it all but even you know this very poison drives you forward. Well, you might as well celebrate it.

How to Build a Brighter Future, After a Relationship Ends

Our love relationships are among our most intense human connections. Unlike those we share with family and friends, they reach into every part of our lives, intellectual, emotional and physical. And when they end, whether that ending results from a death or irreconcilable differences, the pain can be unbearable. 

Recovery however, just like any grieving process, does have a beginning a middle and an end. Yet the end, will most likely not return you neatly back to where you started before the relationship began… you and your life will be inexorably altered by the experience. 

Our Forever Moment

Buried deep into your arms, my night began. I was there almost and yet I felt afar. I wanted to hug you tight, for I knew the moment would soon pass away and I'd have to face the world again, without you.

I could literally smell your perfume from up close. My chin lay on your collar bones as your hair playfully snuggled up to my face. Our moment had begun. The cacophony of the world had drowned and I wished to freeze the time. But then not all wishes come true.

The emptiness of your hug was unsettling, your tears, more so. I could write a million words but those words would fall short to describe the miserable feeling that gripped me, like these tall pin trees in those mountains. I knew you had doubts, I couldn't fathom words. I knew you had questions, I could fathom characters. All I had was my hug and the truth. The truth that the moment was soon going to pass away and our light would be gone.

But today, I have you.

What Is It Like to Travel?

To travel is to find out new places, new faces and new experiences. Well, for most. Travel has been a part of me right since I was born. Travel has defined me as a person. It taught me what books didn't and showed me life unlike any other. In a way, Travel has helped me find myself.
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Aurindam Mukherjee