What is it that makes the feeling of finding happiness any different than a supernova?
Isn’t the rush of emotions at par with an exploding star inside your heart?

You are
After all

And I am trying to fall asleep
but the stars in your eyes
to interfere with
the orbiting of
my thoughts.


(Art by Anders Rokkum)

They say when you miss someone, they probably miss you too. The thought of this being true makes me smile; it’s kind of like the universe keeping a secret from us. Hiding away each of our thoughts that go into space, floating around like bubbles of longing, love, anxiety and everything that we could possibly have felt and not let on to the ones we communicate with habitually. The thought of others having similar thoughts, feelings and us not knowing is both unnerving, and exhilarating. Why?

Because it sucks to not know when someone somewhere is feeling right about what you’re feeling. It’s exhilarating because for the moment that the thoughts are in your head, they are your own, no one can take away the moment of deep wonder, that hour and half you spent just staring into oblivion thinking about him or her, and that one little moment you shared. If you knew that the other person had you on their mind, what fun would the chase be? Would there even be a chase? Complications? Mindgames?


On most days I wonder, what would it be like if we walked around with a tiny bubble over ourselves; a bubble that encompassed every little detail we have thought of, feelings that we’ve felt and emotions that have run through our veins? What would it be like? To know the deepest most intimate secrets we guard in the vaults of our minds, only to be released into the bubbles we let out into cosmic space.

CHAOS. That’s what it would be like.

We thrive on intimacy. On feeling things people are not always privy to. That’s what makes us humans such needy social people. That bubble we so closely guard is the only reason we feel the need to share, to love and to hold on to another soul. Our very own âme-sœur. Soul mate. Kindred spirit. The one person we think can be our home, our escape and everything we need him/her to be.

The waves from our bubble, to theirs are magnetic. The attraction is inevitable. The consequences are almost always fatal. So when we miss someone, and they miss us too; I’d like to believe the universe sends us signs, and all we need to do is act upon those signs. Pick up the phone, act on an impulse, pack up our bags and travel the seas. Right? Right.

I don’t know why I wrote this, or why I spend so much time thinking of these obscure designs that I’m convinced the universe has for us. What I do know is that these theories of mine? They keep me going. They make me okay with being with my own bubble. And one day, I hope to find someone to share my bubble with. The one who person who will share my secret sins, random joys, who would manage my sorrows and most importantly the constant need to be loved, and held on to, unquestioningly.

They say when you miss someone, they probably miss you too. I think they’re right.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.


I love endings.

Good ones, bad ones, ugly ones, all kinds actually. I love how endings just leave you with no choice but one. For once, you don’t have to choose but just do. It’s all done, and there’s nothing you can do to change things.

The beauty of endings is in the limitation of the situation. Like a calamity. You can pick up what is most important to you and just leave! And when you do, you don’t pause and muse over what you missed out, you’re thankful for being alive and for having the best of what you could have brought along. Endings are such natural calamities; they leave no time, no space for you and your feelings, or your choices. When the time for an ending comes; there is not much left, all you can really do is pack up and leave. Leave someone, someplace, or something.

Most people wonder why we must leave the rest behind, isn’t old gold? Shouldn’t we fight till our last fibre to salvage these things? Possibly. But what’s the point of the ending then? Don’t endings come with the new promise, and anticipation of ‘what’s next’?

I love endings.

When everything is wrapped up nice and tidy, complete with ribbons and bows; whether it ends with a happily ever after or on a battlefield of blood, sweat and tears with a warrior standing over the remains of thousands, the story is complete. It’s good to get rid of that person, place or thing once and for all. (Even if you always loved them and would want them to return…) They allow you to stop, for a change, check your course and start in any other way you would want to. (Maybe even go back to the start.)

Endings are indeed beautiful calamities.

Cuz the beauty of these kinds of things is that they nestle in your imagination, and never really end. You’re subconsciously honing an infinite array of possibilities.

The End?

Freedom, in a sense, is how well you can live with yourself.

The decisions we take, the choices we make, the mistakes we forgive and the problems we suffer. Freedom is being able to live through life, without ever wondering how you would want to change what happened.

If you ever ask yourself, “What would I change in my life?", then you are never truly free because you are tied to the past that was, hoping to change the future that will be.