The Departed


Photo Source:

In the air we breathe the essence of the departed floats like the first snow of the season, reaching out to us in the purest of white, from the ubiquitous grey of the sky. For a moment we feel the pinch of cold on our bare skin but then it melts away, leaving just a trail of transparent liquid where it had touched us. The transformation so ephemeral that one could barely notice it happen and yet significant enough to leave its trace on our lives.The consciousness they touch in that flicker of a moment become a small part of a much bigger experience. This experience then survives the gloom of winter through the summer and all the other seasons, through rain and wind, while continuously battling with time, to be transformed into this really powerful memory. A memory that, within itself, holds the ability to breathe life back into the gloomy winter and make it snow once again.


A re-blog from The Diary of a Zombie

The Diary Of a Zombie

When faced with the impossible choice of seeking light in the dark, one usually tends to go off course and get used to the conditions after a certain point in time. The pupils slowly dilate and we start to see things relatively clearly, even when there’s no light. That is the body’s instinct. We forget, for a moment, what we were actually looking for because that is our nature’s instinct. The moment we have achieved a part of what we were striving for we tend to become comfortable to the point of complacency. Satisfied and settled we find a little corner and build ourselves a castle made of cardboard boxes. We start a new life under the illusion of being the rulers of our kingdom ; the masters of our own mediocre ambitions till the day when everything goes dark again.


View original post

The Diary of a Zombie

Hello everyone!!

I know it’s been a long time since I have posted anything on the blogs. To be really honest, I have found myself uninspired and lost. I quit my old job and have joined a new one and the change might have had a small role to play in all of it. I have dearly missed this place and I think I am back for good now. There is so much to write and so much more ro read.

In the meantime, I have created one more blog. I don’t think I will be updating it too often. It’s something I have had in mind for a long time now and it’s a long term project. Basically it’s a darker and gloomier version of my current blog, almost like an alter ego.

Here is my first post on the new blog. Hope you like it.

The Diary of a Zombie – The Beacon



The Frozen Lake


Photo Source:

I have often travelled to the undiscovered depths of my consciousness, and being an introvert, that is something that has come very naturally to me. The sense of adventure that comes with my quest to self-discovery has always fascinated me.  I believe there is nothing more fulfilling and empowering than being self-aware. It sets you free of yourself and from any other form of restraint that you may otherwise always feel constraining you from being who you truly are.

It’s almost like diving into a frozen lake. The ice is almost always thin, but stable enough for you to walk comfortably. All it takes is a little opening on the surface and that is the easy part. What will really test you is the will and strength to take that plunge into the dark and icy  water underneath. 



“Every journey a man takes, he learns. He discovers things in and around himself that eventually shape his existence. All it takes is a moment of reflection”

A beauty so pure, elegant and innocent,reflected against the dust colored drapes of the dancing trees , swaying unanimously as one, slowly giving in to the inevitability of the dawning darkness of the clandestine dusk. The bleeding sun at the horizon making every effort to prolong its departure, that painful separation of twelve hours, before it can be reunited with the beauty of the dawn, the love of its life.

Sitting by the open window of the mini bus, looking at the crimson in the eyes of the weeping sky, i could feel the torment that only two souls so deeply connected by the invisible and over powering bonds of an undefinitive love, forced into separation by definite circumstances, could feel. Emotions so overwhelmingly real, one had to be there at that instant to  truly feel its heartbreaking honesty.

I blinked against a sudden rush of the evening wind, which had chosen that precise moment to impose its existence. As I tried to open my slightly burning eyes, a solitary tear desperately fought its way out of the cold, marble eyes of a frozen soul. I quickly made a well rehearsed movement of my hands, that seasoned motion where I murdered any nascent drops of tears that showed a sign of disobedience against my will, while pretending to adjust my spectacles. I turned away, too scared to face the ugly truth in the reality of the fate of the sun and its love. The feeling of helplessness taking over my otherwise placid composure. I turned around and with some difficulty, owing to the crawling darkness, I could see silhouetted faces; faces that seemed so distant and detached, yet, familiar and comforting. Each bejeweled with a different expression, each with its own story. Happy and smiling, singing and celebrating; each in search of their sanctums. Some looking for it in the arms of their lovers, while some in their friendships. Some desperately searching for it in nature outside,  while others within themselves. Some on their way home, while some still stumbling and lost. Yet, the faces reflected content and peace.

Time escaped fluidly through the contours of life and as the orange sky narrated the epilogue of the sun’s melancholy, the last traces of the crimson melted into the deep blue shade of the night sky and then there was a different story altogether. As the transient flashes of the intermittent headlights of the passing vehicles danced their way into the bus, the translucent veil of equanimity was pulled off the happy faces, their eyes belying every ounce of the pretense they had so meticulously wrapped around themselves. It was the same expression everywhere, the uncertainties, the insecurities, the agony of  heartbreaks, and the pain of dejection. The emptiness of loss, the longing for love, the disappointing choices and the unfulfilled dreams. Each and everyone was fighting a battle, against the world, against themselves, and that moment, that evanescent moment in the dark and winding highway, reflected their true essence. They were, who they were meant to be and not what they had been made. They knew, they had to survive their ‘twelve hours’ before they could be reunited with a better tomorrow, a perfect tomorrow, their tomorrow. Till then they will survive, till then they will smile.

Slowly, one by one, they gave in and let sleep carry them in her comforting arms. My eyes were tingling again, but this time I did not hold back. I was safe, I was alone. I let every emotion that had piled up till that moment trickle down my face and slowly make its way into oblivion. I looked out the window and the crescent smiled back at me. It was a strange feeling, as if the moon was trying to comfort me. I looked at her enigmatic presence and then realized something. Something that had escaped me all these years, something that people had failed to see. In the night sky amidst all the stars, the moon stood alone. Yet, it smiled and comforted people in the unnerving darkness. The message was loud and clear. I took one last look at the now peaceful faces around me and then at the moon, I thought about the sun and about the better tomorrow. Like everybody else I had to fight my battle,I  had to survive. With new found respect in those comforting faces I closed my tired eyes.



Photo Source:

I opened my eyes today feeling like no other day. I took a deep breath and filled my lungs with the warmth of the morning. It was an incredible experience. The sun felt warmer and the air lighter. The trees seemed greener and the sky looked more beautiful than ever. There was no trace of sadness or loneliness nor was there any doubt or questions. There was no hint of disappointment or resentment. There was just this sense of lingering peace that made everything seem better.

I got up, walked up to the door and  turned, one last time, to see my body cradled peacefully on the bed before moving on.

The Wrestler


Photo Source:


When your entire existence comes crashing down in a beat of the heart, literally, and you realize that all you have done is wrestled through your whole life, that is the day you wake up facing a self-inflicted and impregnable loneliness. The choices you had made, had been entirely your own and you had never regretted making them, until that very moment, when the cheer from the crowd had gone mute and the spot-lights on the stage had been shadowed by age. You had embraced that stage for far too long to have room for anything else in your life. You had shut yourself out  from the world outside. You had breathed the sweaty air and slept on the bloodied floor to the rants of your own name long enough to have given a thought to a life beyond that gloomy fairy-tale.

Any attempt at re-creating a new life with the broken pieces of a neglected past crumbles like a castle made out of cards, and any hope of forging a fresh present from the scraps collected so far are lost too. The failure to build a new life forces you to take the only path that you have ever known. A path that had controlled your life once and now stands with its arms wide open, like the reaper, to embrace you and take back what it had once bestowed upon you – Your Life.

The choice had always been yours and so was the leap in the end.

Status Updates


Photo Source:

It is sometimes strange to think how you can lie down on your bed for an entire afternoon, doing absolutely nothing but staring at the ceiling of your room. You are not sad, or depressed. In fact, you are almost content. You just like to or maybe you have learnt to like, over time, to watch the little spiders up there scuttle, sometimes in groups but mostly by themselves. They do nothing besides crawling from one corner of the ceiling to the other. That’s it. No purpose, no ambition.

‘”That’s really sad”, you think.

But then, in a moment of self-realization, you picture yourself up there. One day at a time, inch by inch, you see yourself crawl from one corner of this world to the other. Sometimes in groups and mostly by yourself – clueless and purposeless. It hits you. Suddenly you are in this reverie of spiritual enlightenment. Now you understand your fascination for tracking the spider’s movements all day. Now you realize how similar you are to that insignificant bug up there on the ceiling dragging itself aimlessly day after day. This thought scares you because you know you are better than this. You decide to change. You decide to do better.

So, what do you do about it?

Log in to your Facebook account, and write a status message about it.

A Wasted Hangover


Photo Source:

We spend so much time pretending everything is fine that we lose track of reality and find ourselves stuck in time when everybody has moved on. Maybe our intentions were noble but who cares as long as we put a smile on our faces and make people realize they are safe? One day we just realize that we have been trapped inside a prison built by ourselves and have lost the key somewhere. That is the day things come crashing down and we are overwhelmed. We wish to change ourselves and the things around us, we try to catch on, but, no matter how hard we try everything just keeps moving on, slipping away.

We just have ourselves and our thoughts left. We try to speak but we can’t even hear our own voice because somewhere down the line we have lost it. We have forgotten to trust, we have forgotten to believe, and the perfect little world that we thought we had successfully built around ourselves seems like an illusion now; seems like a waste of time, seems like the certificate that we had printed years ago to acknowledge our own stupidity.

So now we just think over what we have done and where we have lost because that’s the only thing left to do. We have always thought and never actually did anything. People may say we have accomplished a lot, that we were real good and for a moment we believe them because that’s what we have been doing all through our lives; living for others, making sure they are happy. Deep down we think,” but, isn’t it a good thing I made people happy? “Yes it definitely is, but, we were stupid enough to lose ourselves, forgot to keep up, and forgot to realize the fact that reality is in fact a completely different ball game.



Photo Source:

Like the unwanted child of destiny, I sat there, surrounded by beautiful walls, imprisoned in my own thoughts; the reflection in the mirror smirking at my fears; the shadows on the walls whispering silence into my ears. I tried to raise my voice but, there was no sound that escaped. Facing myself in the mirror I saw a drop of loneliness trickling down, leaving a trail on my scarred face.

I wondered while watching the hands of the clock slowing down every second; how time had always been against me. Everything I had gone through, all the sacrifices I had made, seemed to have frozen in time; invisible to the world. It was a strange feeling to see everything around me moving at the speed of light while trying to catch a glimpse of the life I had dreamt for myself. It was scary to be stuck in limbo between failure and self-pity when my vision was blurred by disappointment.

The demons that had haunted me in the dead of night, baring their vicious teeth, now followed me around in my consciousness. Every effort I made to shield my senses from the constant rabble of the nightmarish reality felt like catching my breath under water – screaming pain in every cell of my body.

Like a sheep in the middle of my miseries, I cried for my Shepherd. Like the Wounded soldier holding onto my last breath, I wished for peace. Like the moon forever solitary, I craved for Love. Like the fallen, hurt, I yearned for my angel. Like the blinded man, I dreamt of light. Like the lost soul, I searched for my faith and like the ocean, I wished one day to quench the thirst of all.

A lot of things ran through my pre-occupied mind creating a blur of emotions, making it hard for me to concentrate. It made my head spin and my heart ache. Seeking comfort in solidarity I distanced myself from reality and tried to make sense out of the fiction all around. The empty pages of the diary stared back at me expecting to be caressed by the pen of my thoughts, but succumbed in disappointment. Crumbling against the weight of my own thoughts I surrendered; praying for the comfort in the arms of my guardian angels, I let myself drift into a restless slumber.