Yugantar Writes

A cup of coffee beside the windowsill and a guitar on his hand. He was used to it! Sitting by the window with the same old melody on his guitar over years, and the same cappuccino with two teaspoons of sugar regardless of any season. He was as gentle as a breeze and as calm as the sky. His fingers ran down the frets as if they were the robots assigned to that particular task. His eyes were motionless, staring out of the window, to the stars, twinkling to impress the solitary moon. He threw a glance at his cellphone, it was 10:53. Suddenly, a charm grew over his eyes. They started to twinkle as the stars did up there. He took his left hand away from the guitar and picked up his cell phone. Slowly, he went to that number! He stopped for a while- he remembered how this went eight years before. He hesitated, but pressed the green button beside the number, conquering the dilemma. The ring went off. As expected, the call was picked up at the exact third ring. A sleepy but charismat

For my cup of love, cupid has always been unfair. I don’t think it is a good thing to blame that stupid, innocent, little, semi-naked infant with bow and arrow. Kids love pranks, don't they? But whom should I blame then? He made a prank with my life! Why is it that he hit that arrow hard to me but not to her? Why is that I always get struck hard but not her? It all started with that pretty little smile of hers. I tried to defend myself from that. And yes dear cupid, I tried to run away from your arrow too. But you ignorant infant! You would not want my happiness right? You pulled that bow hard and that arrow went down piercing my heart. That wasn’t a big deal for you, was it? And why were you so revengeful. Just because I had no belief in you; you pulled the bow only once! You intentionally did not hit her with that arrow right? Damn! Why should not I blame you? Why could you leave me like that cupid? Why did you want to tear me apart? What about her? Wasn’t she supposed t

In the first lecture, teacher said, "Euphemism is something straight told in a twisted way!" She nodded. In the second lecture, teacher asked her,"What does your mother do?" "She Distributes Love", said the daughter of prostitute boldly. 

Let me make it clear at the beginning, neither am I the motivational speaker or preacher nor the guy who pushes you to get more of yourself. I am just trying to share what I feel about ourselves. Believe me, we are just normal. We cannot get over anything right? Yes, that’s us; typical teenagers. We are hard at ourselves sometimes and sometimes too soft. We have typhoon swirling in our minds. It's the storm of agony, thunder of love, the avalanche of anger, the flood of woe, and sometimes the slight zephyr of motivation. You find yourself on parabolic curve of a function concave both downwards and upwards- sometimes you get yourself at the local maxima and sometimes at local minima. That's typical of us, completely normal; believe me. Just little things wandering over our minds every time! Depressions, broken relationships, hardships, boring classes, just a bit of cigarette you started smoking from yesterday, the lecture of mechanics you missed or that wonderful girl fro

You think I will miss you? No, I won't! You think I can't live without you? Yes, I can! You think I am completely, exhaustingly in love with you? No, I am not! Then why? Why do I suppurate every single time when your name is taken? Why do I want to cling with you the rest of my life? Why do I look at you once, twice and again, and again? Why can I never forget you? Why do I try to sneak in every time I pass by you? Why do I keep on searching chances to get inside you? WHY? You are illusory. You talk of virtuous grades and niftier broods. You talk of dreams and ambitions. You talk of making friends and memories. You talk of leading the world. You talk of holding the head high- but hearts; you never talk about hearts breaking here right? You never told me that I was going to be away from you someday? Why didn't you ever tell me that here, people don't make friends, they grow into a family. Why didn’t you tell me that missing you would never be enough? WHY? You think

For me, She was an unconditional lover, Her dark circles below those pairs of twinkling eyes Could show her sleepless nights, Boasting the connection, She has with me. For me, The word didi , Was something as precious as The word mother was. I could walk miles far without hesitation For she has to be there! For me, Her lap was the best place, To see the utmost, What if she'll leave me? I shook my head and Took a deep breathe. For me, I became her child, Without having her to bear the Womb Process. For me, Dear didi , Where ever you are, Will remain close to my heart. Because I know, You will defend me! For every works of mine.

Let me be clear, if you fall in love with me like the way I have fell for you, I would make sure I destroy every part of you. I would not leave any part well. I don't say they would be cold as the wind blows but would definitely want me every time. It will begin normally with great good morning and loving good night texts - and I will remind you how much your texts makes me smile. I will always stay on top list, remind you of my existence even if I am not around or busy with my guitar with nil balance on my cell. I would make you listen my stories and poems. You would hear my thumb rattling through guitar and my creepy voice over it. And when you will listen to any songs with guitar, I promise you would remember that. We would go on walks. I would hold your hand tight and tighter, intertwine our fingers and caress the back of your palm with my thumb, and your palm with my pinky. I'll imprint my hand marks on your hand, and if someone else holds your hand, just the way I