There lived a little boy in a trivial town somewhere.

He never played with other rug rats.

Always wandering, always wondering.

Why was he like that?

Others despised the little lad.

Sitting by the lake, ogling at others.

Trying to figure what is it that bothers.

He feared crowds, he feared people.

Years passed and so did his adolescence.

Since his first memory, he loved solitude.

Never understood what it is to be around someone.

But then once came a girl, she was what he could never be.

When she spoke, she prattled.

He tried to listen, he battled.

They would meet everyday.

She brought him bread, and he nothing.

"I don’t mind." she’d say.

The boy had started smiling.

For he never knew what it is like to.

Days passed over weeks and then months.

He wanted to tell her something. 

But he didn’t knew how to.

She looks at him while he on horizon.

"I’m afraid" he stammered. 

"Of what?" she said.

He’d stutter, and mutter.

"I’m afraid I’ve started to love you." 

She’d smile and say nothing.

She held both his hands and said.

"Isn’t it something. "


Am I alright


She : “Are you alright ?”

Me : “Yes.”

She : “Look, I don’t want you to suffer because of my mistakes. I want you to move on. “

Me : “Yeah, I get that.”

She : “Hows the college going?”

Me : “Its fine, Hold on I will light a cigarette.”

She : “How many cigarettes have you been smoking in a…


Separated from her whimsical bloom.

She walked the path

Which was never meant to be.

Hiding her pain

She cried silently.

Screaming in her head.

Every step she took

Wondered how could it be.

Every night she wished was her last.

But the dawn won’t let it be.

Alone she walked

Alone she rose.

She was a story

Not a prose.

She looks back what she did.

The distance she travelled

Thinking how could she.


Painfully average looking with a great sense of humor and always down to get drunk

And the irony is whom we live for is whom we’d die for.


Honda CB550 Bobber by Tin Can Customs. No te dejes engañar por el depósito, no se trata de una Zündapp. Esta bobber con aspecto de clásica y con un estilo industrial proviene de una Honda CB 550 de 1976.

I’m upset for all those people who worry for me, who keep me in their thoughts. My family, my friends(if they do). And whoever thinks that I might become or do something they might be proud of. I feel sorry for them because they are so much busy worrying about me, they miss so much of their own lives.


not being drunk is so awful

Anxiety, the next gumption trap, is sort of the opposite of ego. You’re so sure you’ll do everything wrong you’re afraid to do anything at all. Often this, rather than “laziness” is the real reason you find it hard to get started.

" Have you decided yet what you want to do after this? " she asked.

What I wanted to do after this? I was never the kind of guy who would be having a plan about doing something or after that. I was more of a doer, never a planner. If I wanted to go somewhere I wouldn’t know what I’d do when I get there until I get there. It was something that always came naturally to me. It was more instinctive that decided. 

" I haven’t worked that out. " I smiled and said. 

" Well you should you know, you can’t carry on like this, no one can and no one should. We’re humans and we all have one thing in common. A basic need of settlement. "

I could’ve given her a whole thesis on that, but I chose not to. I knew it would only lead to a very long and tiring and inconclusive debate. So, I chose to spare myself and her from all that. But I still wanted to talk about it.

" Pingu, tell me something. You know exactly what you want to do after this, and I’m sure you also have a layout planned out for all that. But what if it doesn’t work out that way? What if it happens all the way opposite to that? " I said.

She answered almost instantly as if she knew that I was going  to ask something like that. ” To do is our duty. I mean we have our goals fixed and then it’s our job to work our way towards that goal. And if some hurdles come up in the way, we simply change our path. Not the destination. “

What she said wasn’t anything wrong. It was just something with which I wasn’t in agreement with And it’s not necessary that everything you agree with is right and rest is wrong. Sometimes there can be various different forms of right and wrong. It all depends on us which form we chose to be our version of right or wrong. I had my own right she had her own. But still an inconclusive argument isn’t an argument at all. 

" You know Pingu, what you said isn’t wrong. But what I do isn’t wrong either. When hurdles come up in my way even I don’t stop there. I merely change my way. It’s just that you already have a destination fixed and I don’t. You learn and then you move I learn while I move. It’s only matter of choices. And choices are what we settle with. " 

I am jealous of those who think more deeply, who write better, who draw better, who look better, who live better, who love better than I.
Two people in love, alone, isolated from the world, that’s beautiful.
It is part of who I was, who I am, and who I will be.