Skip to main content

It's all linked.

Note: Before you read this crap, let me remind you that I'm insane, and this post is COMPLETELY RANDOM.

So, someone made fun of me again. Why am I not surprised? It's not that I make a clown of myself. And it occurred to me- Tit for Tat. I had read this in a story long ago, probably in class two. Anyways, I just thought of and analyzed the fact that whatever I do seems to happen again to me. Unexpectedly. Well, (this is embarrassing) I threw a bottle in the direction of my teacher, which didn't hit her, and the next day someone threw a bottle at me, which didn't hit me. If I criticize someone, I get double the criticism. And in one of my idiosyncratic mood, I realized that every time I just can't avoid it by terming it to be a coincidence.
     I complain of people always choosing me as a target for making fun of, without any reason most of the time. I get agitated and violent. But it never crops up to me that the one I make fun of, without any reason most of the times, may feel the same. I complain of people calling me a black crow, but never think of the girl  I call a hippo. Doesn't she feel flustered? Doesn't she feel that the world is after letting her down? Doesn't she feel insecure and neglected, like I do? Perhaps she does, but they remain unspoken emotions. Her happiness, her negations...all untold unbosoming. When we hit a tennis ball on the wall, it comes back to us., with double the force. And apparently it is true. Very true indeed.

P.S.: Please read the note again which I have mentioned in the starting of this idiotic post.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Nothing lasts forever.

Hey, back after a long time. But a beautiful memory just grabbed my attention, and I just couldn't resist writing on it! I went to the 28th  National Convention organised by SPIC MACAY, a famous society for the promotion of Indian culture amongst youth. It was an enriching experience, and we stayed in NIT Karnataka. The place was extremely serene and beautiful! We were allowed to visit the beach nearby, and I was filled with ecstasy at the very mere thought of visiting the beach. I got a chance when everyone was away for yoga. It was about 5 am in the morning and the sun was rising. Suddenly gripped with excitement, I stuffed some snacks, my diary and my water bottle in my bag and rushed off to the beach. WOW. This was the only word that I could utter when I finally reached the beach.I exclaimed when I stepped on the soft sand of the beach.  The sun was rising, and the scene was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I further took steps towards the cold, salt...

You

You You are the weather I want for eternity, You are the breeze that is always serenaded, You are an epiphany... You are the moonlight I always want to sink in and make it seep through my skin and bones and beyond. You are the rain that lets me float away in ecstasy Yes, you are the rain; the first drop– slight shiver And then it pours like a hurricane, and floods every inch of me And beautifies me, makes me glowing, radiant, gregarious, amorous... Oh, when did you become an ocean and drown me in you for perpetuity? You are the truest, purest, bona fide reflection of me, a mirror... But you are also a downpour, that becomes a vehement thunderstorm and rips apart the nests sitting peacefully on the trees. You are the face of intimacy that makes me florid You are that touch that gently caresses the locks and tangles that make my hair and make me shiver and tremble, like I just got an overdose of a current or something You are the eyes that fall on every crevice of my hea...

Problems of a bookworm!

 Writing after a really long gap. Does it ever happen that you're comfortably settled in your bed with a DAN BROWN   book in your hand, totally engrossed in it and suddenly, lights off! And then you're reminded by your angry mom that it is 12 am, and you have to go to school the next day. Every ardent book reader has at some point in their life faced such problems. I find myself  reading in the light of the fridge at 3 am.      The most inhuman torture was my almirah eventually locked, and I had to spend my entire vacations without books (except the fact that i found the almirah's key one day and quietly took some books). A major problem of a bookworm is the trauma which occupies you after reading a book, which is worsened when you read another book and get overwhelmed by its trauma, too. Everything around you seems to be different, and sometimes you become so influenced that you compare real people with fictional characters. Some books l...