Story of a writer who writes stories…

The moment of pride, joy and sorrow for a writer when the story comes to its last line, last word…even if it’s just a file in a folder for many, it’s child to its creater who gave birth to the names, people and protagonists living inside those pages.

After going through ups and downs with those people every day, when rest of the world went to sleep, the writer is now left alone and sad…like the parent whose child has moved out for a job or a best friend who is now in another city…what now?

The joy and the sigh of strange pain…story of a writer who writes stories.

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The invisible hug…

A friend recently asked me why did I choose music symbols as my first Tattoo…because I found it when I was a lost kid and I still have it around now that I’m a messed up grown up…it’s like an invisible hug that calms you down and whispers ‘shh…I’ve got you’…

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Darlin…!!!!

Darlin
I know it wasn’t wise
Falling for those eyes
Getting lost in that smile
Now I’m missing
Face of the unknown
Wondering 
If It’ll ever show up again
Darlin 
You walked in and out
Of my life in few seconds
As I stood 
Few steps behind you
In the queue
I looked at you
Almost introduced myself
Asked you for a coffee
Told you my favorite author
In a whisper 
Gave you my number
Guessed your favorite song
Blushed before I kissed you
And gave my heart to you
Thinking that’s where it belong
Darlin
I know it wasn’t wise
But if you could please
Just walk pass by me
Once more
For
I wish to write an end
To this dream
Tell you
It’s not me it’s you
You’re the star
I can only gaze upon
So pretty so far
I would then say
We’re done
And walk away
Knowing I had you
Even if it was for a day or two
Darlin 
Just once more
Meet my eyes
I know it wasn’t wise…

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