Among those new faces you try to find peace. Among those concrete jungles you try to find your dwelling.

Then you find a person and then another. Slowly, you find yourself sorted and confine yourself within a definite set of people.

These are your own people now. You look forward to sharing the best moments with them and living the best stories with them.

You expect. You don't get. You regret. You are defeated.

It takes a little thing to bring the old memories back. That little spark which ignites a wildfire inside you. A wildfire of regret.

You should have seen. You should have known. You shouldn't have lost all the time that was precious.

The past is a glorious phase drifting away from you each passing second. The present is going to be a vicious cycle of expectations and defeats, the kind you wanna escape.

The past is dormant, it gives no sign of life. The present is alive, summoning you to surrender yourself.

The past is the bitter truth. The present is a sweet lie.

But the mind is fickle and impulsive. It would probably come back to life after drinking the sweet poison the present has to offer.

I still remember those days. A little me, standing quietly and peacefully with my nose up against the window. My hair were a mess and clothes kind of dirty because of rolling on the floor. With wobbling legs I somehow managed to stand on the stool.

I used to look at the rain. But more than that, I stared with awe at the lightning. If someone would have asked me what I wanted to be, I would have told them that I would love to be the Lightning. You ask me why..?? Because it was so powerful. For some seconds, it would dramatically demonstrate such power that people were compelled to look at it.

Years have passed. I still stand with my nose up against the window. My hair still messy, but clothes remain clean. Now I don't need a stool to admire the rain or the thunder. In fact, now if anyone asks me what I want to be, I wouldn't tell them that I want to be the Lightning. Because I want to be that sky on a sunny day, the one which might not cause the brightest thunder or the most intense rain for seconds, but the one which stays all day.

I realized that the dramatic sky is a lie, the truth is just a normal sunny day which still remains under appreciated.

You have taught me how there can be a strong connection with someone you just met. You taught me how some friendships are so different; as if two people were meant to be friends. You made me experience how beautiful is the transition from a friendship to falling for that person. You made me realize how some words are better left unsaid and some bonds better kept nameless.

You then introduced me to the concept of getting hurt for real. Heartbreak was just another fancy word until you came and defined it for me.

You taught me how to accept things the way they are and try to move on.

Because of you, I find solace in all those failed attempts at moving on. Because of you, I found that even all those almosts are peaceful. Because of you, I know love.

But then again, I wish you knew all this. What do you know about love after all?

Dear Stranger,

I see you everyday. Yes obviously, I wanted to talk to you every time we crossed paths. But something stopped me from doing so. So here is what all of it meant.

Behind every reluctant smile was a "I wish we could talk but I am in a hurry."

Behind every enthusiastic and melodious Hiiii was a "I didn't know you hangout here but anyways I am glad to see you."

Behind every awkward elevator encounter was a "Should I talk or will it seem really desperate?"

Behind every casual and mandatory "What's up?" was "Can I at least know your name and probably your Instagram handle?"

Behind every prolonged stare was "I had a bad day and I want you to sit down and listen to me rant."

But I never talked to you. Because I know that if you talk, you would become an acquaintance. If we start exchanging greetings, we would be those casual greeting friends. If we start talking in elevators, we would be friends on social media, losing our friendship to virtuality. If you did sit down and listen to my problems, you would become my friend, just like my other friends.

I don't talk to you because I don't want to ruin this strange bond we share. We do not expect anything from each other. Without exchanging words we know what the other one is going through. We just see each other and know things and I hope it stay exactly the same. In our silence I find peace and chaos are forgotten.

Sincerely,

The stranger you see every day

"You are a princess", they said. Beautiful, graceful and elegant. They said that I would have a crown of jewels and the power to rule kingdoms. If I would be in a difficult situation or would face any problems, my Prince charming, my knight in shining armor, would come and rescue me.

Now that I have grown up, I believe that I have a right to ask this question. Where is the metaphorical crown of jewels that I was supposed to have? Why aren't people even listening to me when I am trying my best to rule kingdoms? Where is the Prince Charming who was supposed to come and rescue me? These stories, these fairy tales, were so deeply inculcated in me while I was growing up that I couldn't even prepare myself for what actually lay ahead.

Well, I am in a place where I feel like an outsider most of the time. I have stopped trusting people because they have always reciprocated by backstabbing me. I am so far away from the idea of having a Prince Charming that even one good and pure ordinary soul would make me the happiest when I would meet one. I have stopped wishing for anything because I almost never get what I want. When I try to maintain all my friendships, I end up hurting one or the other person. I am broke many a times. When I try to make amends, I only end up creating more problems. Honestly, the only thing which keeps me going is the will to excel academically, to escape from the kingdom where I have so "gracefully" created havoc. I need to rescue myself.

So, to all the thousands of other princesses out there, just like me, waiting to be rescued, I would like to tell you - You are your own Knight in shining armor, rescue yourself. 

When I was just a little girl, to live the dream was my only dream. Now that I have come to the real world, I wish I was at least told about how things can go wrong in a kingdom. Now a normal reality remains the only dream.

I still remember that smiling face, 

Looking at me for so long. 

No, those weren't the creepy stares, 

It was like a beautiful love song. 

I knew you were never mine

I knew you would never be,

Still if I were to choose 

In a crowd of thousands it would be you that I see. 

Everything was perfect for a while

Until I was pushed back to reality, 

My soul still searches for a place 

Where I would find that serenity. 

Can things ever be the same? 

Your answer was a never. 

But you would always be a part of me, 

You were my Temporary Forever. 

Roald Dahl has rightly said,"Those who do not believe in magic will never find it." I believe in dreams that come true even when you didn't have the slightest expectation of the same; and in miracles that conceal within themselves the ultimate power of completely changing lives and people.I believe in the existence of Santa Claus, the easter bunny, Dragons, aliens, life after death, the supernatural and paranormal, fairy tales and above all, magic.

The fact that I have a belief, an opinion does not make me insane or crazy. What is wrong with living in your world full of thoughts and experiences created by you? Nothing. It is perfectly alright if you believe that magically you will be saved when you are in a dreadful and unavoidable situation or that your loved one will be miraculously healed when ill. As children, we have been told stories about dragons, serpents, witches and wizards, talking animals, superheroes and ghosts. But these stories were never accompanied by an instruction to leave them behind when we grow up.

In a world full of mark sheets, balance sheets and timetables, it is sometimes necessary that you have a unique perspective towards it, which you build using your own imagination. The immense joy that you receive after your beliefs and thoughts turn into reality is something worth experiencing.

Everyone has their own belief which they possess since childhood. Then why not live with it through your adulthood and beyond?

So, I exist in a world enshrouded with schedules and rules and still believe in fairy tales. I believe in all of it.

Maybe I will see you again. Maybe I will not. Honestly, I can’t discuss my lasts as calmly as I discuss my firsts. Lasts. One last handshake. One last hug. One last goodbye. 

I will probably just make jokes about anything. I will totally be judgemental and tell you how that girl with a hideous blue bag has worn a dress which is a bit too extra, even for her. I will obviously not stop talking once I get started on the things I will be doing when I leave. I will talk about places and food. I will make sure I irritate you in some or the other way. I will avoid you each time to try to get even a little bit emotional. I will skip those sentimental talks which are a constant reminder of the fact that I am leaving. 

When it is time for me to leave, I will make a stupid comment about you, call you ugly or something. I will say that I am the happiest because I am gonna go away from you. I will remind you how I am not gonna miss you at all. And all this time, there will be a broad smile on my face. 

Then, I will go away, without a proper goodbye. No, I will not even turn around once to look at you. Because I am terrified that once I look back, it will be impossible to muster that courage to leave again. Because I am terrified of getting too attached to leave. Maybe I will see you again. Maybe I will not. I am terrified of the ‘maybes’. I am terrified of goodbyes. 

Sitting alone on the rooftop, staring blankly at the unfamiliar city lights, she felt the breeze chill her skin. She was always intrigued by the rooftops. People came here to contemplate or calm themselves down or to admire the vastness of the cities they dwelled in. They were left replaying moments and memories of the past, missing the people who mattered the most to them. But she had a bigger question. What was the reason that always drew her to the rooftop? Her restless mind would stop having any thoughts the moment she came to this place and that bothered her. She too wanted to miss people. But she knew that this wasn't the case. Beautiful rooftops too didn't have that effect on her. 

That instant, at 1 a.m., she realized what she was doing there. She wanted to be a part of the crowd that she so keenly observed from the height every night. She wanted to be somebody's rooftop observation at 1 a.m. too, a part of those dazzling city lights. 

To miss people after coming to the rooftop was one thing, but not having any one to miss when you are on the rooftop is different. Different and worse, she knew. 

Buttons are pressed. Doors closed. Impatient eyes stare at the digital display. Restless minds have already drifted off to revise the pending tasks. There is a coordination between the hands as each one checks their wrist watches to estimate the time lost. There is pure discomfort in the air as strangers stare at each other blankly. Some people's attempts at friendliness are being murdered by the irritated expressions of the others. Some people are grateful to have gotten out of the weird atmosphere earlier. The glum background music is almost being ignored, as it always was. Still, there is one unknown, mysterious and devoted lady who never stops being polite. At last, the most awaited moment arrives. The lady announces the arrival of the topmost floor. Hastily, people make their way out of the awkwardness in the elevator, like prisoners being set free.

Oh, how funnily awkward are those little elevator encounters...!!!