Segregating the love for the bond and the admiration for the person, a thin line demands a balance on either side
And all the stories have one high point from where it all starts shattering.
Let’s see till when you can escape from the so-called ‘evaded’ conversations!
For I might be that nocturnal insect.
I might be that moth.
We three have been brachiating along the same rope. Sometimes with gladness, sometimes with regrets…
Your every effort to help me meet my present, is going in vain.
What’s weird is that you never get out of my head, and what’s more weird is that I’m not sure if I love or hate you. You’re alive in my imagination, only with a hope, that you’ve a real replica of yours…
Maybe I’m panicked after the past darkness, and I’m doing some lunatic deeds, only to avoid it again in my life…
Some of your really great friends are humming the background tunes of your life!
For the one who never came out of the photo frame- my grandmother.