“At one magical instant in your early childhood, the page of a book—that string of confused, alien ciphers—shivered into meaning. Words spoke to you, gave up their secrets; at that moment, whole universes opened. You became, irrevocably, a reader.” –Alberto Manguel

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Sunday, August 24, 2014

Three Bottles Down

"I like you and am saying this when am three bottles down. I can hardly stand my feet; hardly can see anything other than you going away like in rear mirror view and disappearing into fog. Its 3 a.m. and all I have on my mind is you. Damn! I was high this time, than I ever was. I missed you; I certainly lost being myself but definitely didn’t miss to think about you. Gawd! that’s not good, scares the hell outta me. The more I thought ‘bout you, the more high I became. You’re the strongest of ‘em all and I guess the hangover of you will never pass."




















Bae guess you don’t know;
know won’t believe though,
though it’s hard to tell you;
damn, what am gonna do.

Well, am outta my mind;
you've got me almost blind,
you’re one of a kind;
Gawd, am I gonna left behind?

It’s three in morning and;
‘am three bottles down,
don’t remember anything but you;
and wishing you’re around.
Reading old texts;
scrolling down the photographs,
hangover isn't through;
missing those silly laughs.

Oh it feels like paradise;
damn your smile, your eyes, 
do you ever realize;
you've got me hypnotize. 

You make my demons dance;
angels cry for missed romance,
‘bout the failed plans;
bae, is there a chance.

It’s three in morning and;
‘am three bottles down,
forgot everything not you;
and wishing you’re around.
Reading old texts;
scrolling down the photographs,
hangover isn't through;
missing those silly laughs.

~Shreya 

P.S. My creation, please do not copy | Copyright © Protected | Image: Google

P.P.S. Work Of Fiction!

Friday, August 15, 2014

Not So Good

Don’t you think, some people are too lucky to be loved so much? I am jealous, when somebody is so much loved but never returns it back. It’s a balanced expression right, maybe not. I hate it when people who deserve it run out of it, and who hardly care about it are loved in best possible way. Ironic it is, ain’t it –to offer everything you have to somebody and they treat it like some object and say: nah, I didn't like the color. But, then if it’s not madness and a little pain; it’s not love. Damn!




















Am sleepless and wondering why;
you haven’t replied at all,
are you asleep, leaving me to die;
know, ‘am waiting for your call.
Honey, you won’t understand why;
I wrote this after all,
and to my messages you reply;
hmm.., ok, yea, LOL.

I know she clouds up your mind;
but why did you write on my wall,
how could you be so blind;
that’s not so good at all.

Is she that beautiful to stare;
that you've got no time to say,
or you don’t even care;
of me being into you night and day.
Honey, you won’t understand why;
I don’t talk to you at all,
but I wish you could at least try;
‘cause I hate to see you fall.

Guess you are asleep;
or busy with her on call,
this is my last message that you’d keep;
tryna tell she’s not so good at all. 

~Shreya 

P.S. My creation, please do not copy | Copyright © Protected | Image: Google

P.P.S. Work Of Fiction!

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Insecurities Ricochet

Hey.. Peeps.. :) Wonder, when you say “what if?” –you’re quite unsure, absolute ingredients of insecurity. Insecurities are like catalysts that retards the growth of happiness. Be it job, relationship, dreams or any other thing that matters. The reason being lack of commitment, I guess. I've been insecure from quite a time, for every damn thing. Sometimes my idea for being insecure is to be less sure about something so that it disappoints a little less. Rather keeping all my faith in it, I let it fill with doubt that serves me well much often and feeds my mind for a while, perhaps like fools' paradise. How complicated does that sound, following the traits -low, medium, high?

Mum-dad ain't coming to see me. I don't know why, but I guess somewhere I knew it is not gonna happen and how stupid do I sound if I say that despite this I imagined what am gonna do once they’re here? I wished for it multiple times, followed by insecurities of having may be and may not be debating in my mind and this is how I didn't get the happiness –I had subscribed for. So I find, sometimes smiling over something is to ignore the disaster, and to introduce sarcasm. Sarcasm has always been my favorite, seems never to bore me.


Hate to see your heartbreak by Paramore is currently my favorite and is been on loop, set as ringtone as well. I've always been scared of speed and height, and now more than that insecurities stab me, swallow me like antigens. A huge lump of insecurity is always there to choke me and I hate that. Insecurity has been partners with complaints, so if you have either of two -it brings the other half as well. When we don’t have options we complain of not having enough when offered many we complain confusion and this goes on like arithmetic progressions or I must say like Sine curves. 

I wrote this on my way back from office. I kinda like that eerie silence and darkness when I return at 4 in morning and it equally scares me. Well, how can same thing make somebody feel two exact opposite emotions? Just like farewells do –joy of starting something new and sadness of ending of something you’ve been part of. Oh, happy belated friendship day to all my fellow bloggers and readers. Strangers who love music are all my friends and those who don’t, could never be. Well, everything else is good. Any wonders, if I say –insecurities define the depth of passion behind something? May be yes, it does or may be it is just a fool’s asset to display passion. Whatever, I hope I get to see my family soon. Signing out, may God bless y’all.. :)