Picture Source: Pinterest

Picture Source: Pinterest

She thought of ways.
There must be some to sort out the mess.
The distance and the time didn’t matter,
She firmly believed.

She loved Him always,
And Time really wasn’t anything.
It was only His silence and lack of effort on his part,
That made Her realise,

No ways of the world can make someone feel.

Not at least what She still felt,
And He too had felt,

Once upon a time.


Picture Courtesy: Pinterest

Picture Courtesy: Pinterest

She missed writing.
She missed writing poems,
To bleed her heart out into them.

She missed writing stories,
To create perfect lives unlike Hers.
She saw no point writing them anymore, you see.

Everything was an illusion, after all.
Emotions were nothing,
But only keepsakes, meant to be locked.

Lives can be anything but perfect.
No story can have any happy ending.
Only surviving and breathing.


Picture Source: Internet

Picture Source: Internet

I miss Him when I walk,
On the streets we had treaded on.

I miss Him when I eat,
At the restaurants we ate at.

I miss Him when I hear a song,
Songs which appealed to him and which did not.

I miss Him when I’m happy,
His sadness used to dilute my happiness once.

I miss Him when I’m sad,
His absence making its presence felt.

For He is a part of Me,
I miss him as I miss Me.

Coffee Talkies 2.0 #1 Musings

Source: Internet

Source: Internet

I’ve been thinking about this for some months now and finally, the time has come. So ladies and gentlemen, I hereby relaunch my Coffee Talkies 2.0, drawing a very abrupt end to my previous version of Coffee Talkies, which was essentially a story of a broken couple. Due to a general lack of interest on part of mine in creating any kind of story further, especially given that this world is buzzing with lots of stories already, I henceforth came to the decision of letting the story be where it was and let the characters take it where they want to, in their own fictional world.

The idea behind Coffee Talkies 2.0 is to pen down my musings, which I usually do in my Instagram posts (my Insta handle is @esh_insta, in case you want to visit anytime, of which in fact, I’d be very glad of) and since then, 2 categories of my well-wishers have come into being. One, who have been quite generous with their compliments regarding my musings and the other kind who have been subtly hinting to me, to take it to my blog and leave my posts alone! And thus here I stand, being half-shoved and half interested by myself, to this position. The basic premise behind this Coffee Talkies 2.0 would be a theme for every post on which the musings would be based on and would also happen to involve a few stories. Yes, stories again, except that this ones are very real and happen right out there, something that can be connected with easily. Why Coffee Talkies and not some random blah-blah talkies? That’s because my musings usually choose to visit me during the coffee hours of my day and not just that (’cause as it so happens, I can actually get musings whenever I want *touchwood*), the musings that come then, usually do me the favour of staying back in my mind and not drift away, like the other times.
Okay, now enough with the preamble and on with the theme of the month that passed by: Switching Off and On.

Yeah, that’s what I’ve been doing this 2-3 months and Lord, haven’t I gotten to be a pro at it! No, of course we ain’t talking machines or some mundane stuff here, but you know, emotions. Raw, passionate emotions which are to be switched off and on, as per situations. Not getting it, right? See. We all have our weaknesses which we find, sometimes in people, sometimes in some places, or sometimes in both. The common thread happens to be the fact that you care. Care enough to get hurt at the slightest mistreatment or if and when things don’t turn out the way they should/expected them to be. Thanks to my amazingly good luck, I had and have the fortune of getting hurt at both. (Yeah, I manage to do that now and then and in fact, far often.) Now to survive in this world, you simply can’t keep on getting hurt, can you? So then, I Switch Off my emotions.

No matter how much the places might haunt you, no matter when you look at these people with whom you were once very close but not anymore and remember all those memories, the trick is to think of yourself as a stranger, meeting ’em with an enlightened, changed view. No bitter feelings with only the best wishes for ’em, what you can do is to switch off yourself in front of them. Feel not a single thing walking in those places or along with those people. Easier said than done, right? I know, I know. But well, if we talk about Me in this case, I tell you, I’ve turned into such a professional at this that sometimes I myself get so flabbergasted about it. In fact, I actually have got an interesting story regarding this.

The other day, one of my sisters quipped to me saying in this past 3 years since I have met her, I have changed and reinvented myself so many times that in a very short span of time, it is as if I’ve matured a lot, despite my age. And this is not just Her, but a lot of people have said the same thing and her statement that night just happened to corroborate with the general consensus. Yet to be honest, I hadn’t really wanted to but circumstances and people made Me to. And I refuse to look back. Really, the most important thing one must do is to never lament and regret. Most certainly, believe they have changed you into a much better person than you were before.

Does that mean I have turned into an unfeeling human being? Here comes the Switch On part. The moment I’m out of sight of those particular places and people, I switch back on myself. It’s almost as if I’m leading a dual life character. It’s tiring, sure and sometimes feels like it’s an unnecessary burden to carry but then, it’s so much better than getting hurt innumerous times or turning into an unfeeling being. Some particular disasters of your life should not change the person you are defined by. Not that much that, you can’t even remember the person you were/are and thus fail to look at yourself. Because at the end of day, all you’re left with is You yourself and he/she is someone you don’t want to hide your eyes from.

So Moral of the story is: No one can heal You but You, yourself. Believe and never lose sight of Yourself.


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This happens to be a not-so-famous dialogue from a very famous Hollywood film.  Couldn’t identify? No? Okay.

Right, so this happens to be from the film The Matrix (1999) and even though this conversation between Agent Smith & Neo is not so famous, but is closer to my heart.

Sometimes, when sensitive people fall into depression, people who perhaps fail to grasp their sensitivity, laugh at their backs and call them, “Empty”.
“She is so empty, ya.”
“God, crawl out of this empty life of yours please, will ya?”
“Oh, I get so bored with this empty, boring life of yours.”

with the general consensus being “Get a life, dude/babe!”

What has always piqued my curiosity is, how do you define emptiness? Can there really be any universal definition of what can be called emptiness?

Most importantly, when you are calling someone ’empty’, can you really put your hand on your heart and call yourself ‘not empty’/’full’/’whatever-you-call-that’?

Think over it and let me know, please?


On a personal note, this past few weeks has brought along several epiphanies for me. And with epiphanies came in a big change. Thank you world for the love and hatred alike. They have been crucial for the change, which was the need-of-the-hour. *smiles*

What change? Let’s wait and watch? For, even I am eager to witness the change happening!! *grins*


Source: Internet

Picture Source: Internet

He said, it was not done.
It was not done, to keep him in the dark.
Of all that was up and happening.

I smiled and thought of all the other times.
All those times I didn’t get a reply.
The times I’d waited out, an endless lonely wait.


Let him suit himself, smirked the brain.
He was your closest one and you hurt him, cried the heart.
While the brain-heart war raged on,
Something felt wet on the cheeks.

Wiping the stray tear that had slipped quite unceremoniously,
I smiled.
Look who’s hurting yet again, I mused.


It was not done, I sighed.
Really. Not. Done.



Sometimes She mused.

She mused whether she’d asked too much of Him.

But all She had wanted, was to be close to Him.

To want just a little piece of his time.

A little share of his companionship.


Had that been too much to ask?