Chapter 1 – The Wall

Imagine one day waking up and finding out that there is no Sun for you.

Yes, it means that there is no Sun for you and you only .

The Sun has risen and it has lit up the whole world. Like always. Like the infinite number of days that were there before you existed and the infinite number of days that will come even when you cease to exist, but it’s not there for you anymore.

Your vision has been blurred by an opaque wall through which you can still observe what is going on around you and when you do, you can come to only one conclusion – rest of the world is going on like everything is fine. Its only you who has been abandoned by the Sun. The wall around your vision is only opaque and not pitch black as if just to remind you – it’s only you who is missing out the Sun.

Everyone else is doing just fine.

You find your way to go through life. You establish a routine which helps you to go through it, but it never helps you to get used to your dull life. You start wondering if its the same for a gold fish living in a fish bowl, since its vision of the world through the glass must be distorted.

Does it ever get used to it?

Does it establish a routine inside the bowl it’s living in and go on with life like you do?

Does it keep on living with a constant discomfort and endless unanswered questions?

But gold fishes do not speak. You start speaking less too.

The people around you, they don’t see the wall.  But if you communicate to them for long, they understand that there is something off about you. So you don’t. You understand that the opaque wall exists only around your vision and not around their’s. As if it’s not real, as if it’s a disease.

For the first time in your life, you hope that you have a disease. Since some diseases are curable. May be there will be a way to cure your’s too.

Even if it’s not a disease, you hope that one day, some day, you will get your Sun back. Your world will be colorful and vibrant again, like it once was. May be one fine morning you will wake up and there will be a sunlit world before your eyes and that day, you will know that you have been forgiven and the wall has vanished.

You keep yourself tied to your routines. You keep your conversations short and simple. You no longer make real connections to people. If you sense that there is someone who is trying to connect to you, you withdraw. You bury yourself in your own world, in your own scent.

Yet you live in your world, in your blurred down, colorless world with one hope that one day, someday, everything will be fine. Time passes in minutes and in days. Your will decays along with your body and soul. But the hope in you, remains.

So does the opaque wall.


(To Be Continued…)


Everything And Nothing

If you cannot give me

Everything that you have,

Give me nothing at all.

Money is not everything.

Cars are not everything.

Food, home and people are not everything.

Everything is you.

All your thoughts.

Fears, devotion, love and trust.

Everything was you.

Like the Sun to the earth,

Like the earth to the moon,

My life revolved around your’s,

I wish your’s would revolve

Around my life too.

When you could not give me everything,

I had to bury you.

Under expensive wine and cheap love.

Under thousand memories that I don’t care to remember.

Under hundreds wins and thousand surrenders.

For that’s only way my mind could begin to forget.

If you could not give me

Everything that you had,

I wish you did give me,

No memories at all.


An island named hope.

Life was our sea.

One ship was you.

One ship was me.


We sailed side by side,

When it was dark,

When it was bright.

Every day, every night.


I don’t sail anymore.

I drift across my sea.

So many other ships.

But not one, I can see.


An island named despair.

Life is a rough sea.

Just like your blue eyes,

In those eyes, I didn’t see me.


Everything will make sense,
Birds will chirp.
Like they do today.
The Sun will shine.
Like it does today.
The Sky will be blue.
Like you are today.

Everything will make sense,
Once Again.
You will breath in.
You will breath out.
Not just to filll your lungs,
But to feel alive.
Pieces will fall into places.
Like your heart is falling today.

Everything will make sense,

Today is not someday.

~ Once Upon A Time ~

Ever since,
Drifting away.
Ever since,
Drifting around.
Never really drowning,
Never really floating.
Ever since,
We never spoke again.
Ever since,
We’ve been drifting..
Me, in my life,
You, in my mind.


Ever since,
Lingering within.
Ever since,
Spreading warmth.
Never really covering,
Never really fading.
Ever since,
We never kissed again.
Ever since,
Our lips have been..
Mine, on yours,
Yours, on mine.

Chapter 3 – The Beginning

The day Kafka found out his “condition” was a Sunday. Strangely enough, everything was fine when he woke up from his sleep. He woke up at 8 like every other Sunday, to a brightly lit summery morning. He made himself a fresh cup of hot Darjeeling tea. Kafka put two eggs to boil and started to spread peanut butter on two pieces of black bread. He was never a fitness freak but he liked eating healthy and looking good. He believed one should put at least as much effort in themselves as they usually put looking for clothes and accessories that would make them look attractive.

It was a bright sunny summer day. A beautiful day like this always made Kafka feel a little sad inside because he felt a strong urge to share everything that was beautiful or delicious or amazing with others. But he could not since he had recently moved to a new country for work and had not made any real connections there. So all the beautiful, delicious and amazing things, that the new place had to offer, made Kafka a little sad inside.

Only selfish ones could feel happy completely on their own. Kafka liked solitude but he was not selfish.

After having breakfast, Kafka went out for a run. It was a beautiful city by the sea. Green and blue all around, blue above. Kafka ran with no destination in mind. He liked running for two reasons. One – it made him feel good and helped him to stay in shape. Two – it cleared his mind in a way nothing else did.

Kafka ran through a residential areal. Beautiful houses with a patch of green on the front. Small gardens, well attended. As he ran passed the houses, Kafka’s senses were filled in with many different things. Colorful flowers, scent of freshly cut green grass, refreshing fragrance of detergent as if someone has just finished doing laundry, a tire swing hanging from a tree and moving lazily with the summer breeze, a football resting in the corner of one of the two goal posts set up facing each other in middle of a small garden. Kafka hardly saw anyone as he ran but strangely enough he felt that he was home.

This was a feeling, the small apartment Kafka was living in, could not provide.

He ran for five kilometers and then decided to go into a shop to get a bottle of water. He was drenched in sweat. The sun was shining bright. He sipped into the cold water as he walked out of the store. He decided to take the train back to his place. He walked to the nearest train station and waited on the platform. Everything was green around, the sun was shining bright. There were not many people around but those who were there, looked happy in general.

People appreciated the Sun more than anything in this cold country.

Kafka got back in his apartment and took a long shower. As Kafka walked out of his shower, his phone rang.

The call went on for more than an hour. The water from shower was dripping from Kafka’s skin as he spoke. It was not a nice conversation. Kafka did not like nice conversations and was not particularly good in turning them into good ones. By the end of the call all Kafka’s body was air dried except for is eyes and cheeks.

As Kafka hang up on the call he put his phone on the bed and turned around to face the window. it was the same beautiful world outside except, now it was all in black and white.

Kafka was neither shocked nor surprised with this view. His mind was slowly absorbing a sudden realization that going forward into his life, he would remember this day as the day his life changed.

Kafka was scared and sad because the change was not for good and he very well understood that this could be the point in his life, beyond which he would never make a happy memory ever again but at the same time he felt a strange calmness in his heart because it was done and he knew that he could possibly do nothing about it but move on and it could always get worse, a whole lot worse.






Dreaming of a Dreamless Sleep

Tonight sleep eludes me.

Trains of thoughts wreck my mind.

So many feelings. Like a rainbow,

On top of another one.

I never believed in afterlives,

Or in spirits, or in things I don’t understand.

But tonight, the wish to stay alive,

Just to see you, hold you, know you,

Burns so bright inside, that, I’m sure,

Even death cannot stop my soul.

Sleep eludes me tonight,

Like every other night.

Sleep eludes me tonight,

Like you do.

Perfectly Lonely

Perfectly lonely.

Like the moon in the sky,

Surrounded by stars.

Beautiful, Silver, Serene.

Barren, lifeless, scarred.


Perfectly lonely.

Like a bottle of wine.

Sitting on the table.

Containing the fine red.

Occasionally pouring out.

Only to be tossed out, once emptied.


Perfectly lonely.

No promises to keep.

No Companion to look forward to.

No memories to hold on to.

No new memories to be made.

Life is a comfortable routine.

Routine is simple, perfect and lonely.


Hearts Seeking Hearts

People vanish.

Just like that.

Taken away against their will,

Gone away on their wish,

Fallen apart as we breath.

Just like that.


People disappear.

Just like that.

Some turn into ashes,

Some fade into memories,

Some stay as close as the stars are.

Just like that.


People leave.

Just like that.

Yet some leave a gift,

Some leave a part of themselves,

Some walk away with parts of you.

Just like that.


Feelings stay.

They always have.

Hidden deep in your heart,

Which beats restless,

To move on to the next truth.

It always has.