Category Archives: Living on the side line

A Story i wish to write

Chapter 1 | Heart and all…


Living on the side line!


*** This story is part of Camp NaNoWriMo hence, it is an unedited version of the story i probably would like to fix in future.

I know it’s just a photograph, just like any other – the kinds you saw in ‘Jerry Maguire’! The one with Tom Cruise’s shoulder, except this time, that shoulder belongs to me. Now, I know its just a picture, and I was little off the focus anyhow, so it shouldn’t bother me, right?


I mean, this is how it has always been, starts with me being everything and ends with me being just a limb, I shoulder – to cry on, climb on and easy to forget and move on.

It all started long ago, when I was taught just one thing…Make money!

And make money I did. Although, I learnt another thing, to spot a talent, and then to attract the biggest bum with talent in town. So they called me a Resource/Talent Manager.

I met men after men, sometimes women too (not for the same reason) who were sinking low in life and needed me (a shoulder).

Shouldn’t I be some sort of ‘selfless, doing the good for others’ sort of soul?

But I am not, I am tired of being used and then left with nothing, not even thank you.

Anyhow, this particular photograph is about a different story, it’s about a hero in making, it’s about hard work, tears, hopes, stress, love and his side kick.

Being hero is obviously not easy, first you need to have a talent, which is not so common these days. Then you need someone who would believe that you do have a talent. That first person who believes in you, sees you as you want to be, may be on some future day is the key here.

While people write about heroes all the time, I want to focus on the side kick, that one man/woman behind all the success – that cut out shoulder who is never talked about.

How does it feel to be the one, always on the side line?

A Bakery, A Flower shop and A Girl


Now, may be she was too old to be called a girl, but there was definitely a bakery and a flower shop involved.

She always wanted to be a story-teller


May be run a shop (a bakery or a flower shop), she could never be sure.

She went through life, like a lost butterfly, never knowing which flower to stop at, which fragrance to pick.

About the stories though, there were always too many!

Every road she ever walked on, seemed like wanting to be talked about, every building, wanted to be heard. There were stories all around and once again she was lost on what to pick and hold.

Despite of the entire buzz around, no story ever came out of her shiny ink pen, till one day, when she ended up on a ‘Y Road’. Not only was it a beautiful road, but it also had a Bakery and Flower shop, both at the same end. She sat there for hours feeling lost and elated at the same time, not knowing what to do. She buzzed in and out of her favorite shops, still not recalling what was it she wanted to do.

Days passed by and the happiness faded away by the heat of shear boredom, doing nothing was not easy after all…

Bring me Love!


“Sometimes I get a feeling,

Deep in my soul

Sometimes I get a feeling,

I just can’t control

Sometimes I get a feeling,

Deep in my heart

It’s such a feeling that I know we’ll never part”

Even though, the soft darkness of night, has taken everything in and there is nothing really left, for me to still see. Like the song in my head, I seem to be stuck in my seat with no energy to get back in the house.

I can’t stop thinking of you!

After several years together and countless hours in the dark, I still don’t seem to be able to come up with the reason, WHY, we started out together.

Your shining ring around my finger, seems to be the only bright thing left, and I don’t know why, I still don’t seem to want to call everything off.

Who am i? – An optimist?

May be just a coward!  Ducking my head, in the hot bitterness, blinded by the pain, too scared to see!

But, if this is what it all boils down to, why are we still the social beings? Why are we still humane?

Like the endless pain and this midnight all questions, no answer game, I can’t seem to get this song out of me.

“Sometimes I get a feeling,

Deep in my heart

It’s such a feeling that I know we’ll never part”

 **only text belongs to me, image is thankfully borrowed from””

Being run over by dreams!


Thud… thud… thud…

I am not sure, if the loud bang is of my feet hitting the pavement, or my heart, beating loud in my chest. I try to synchronize the noise to the unwelcome thoughts in my head.

My failed attempts of keeping peace outside are beginning to fade away, as the clouds of the dark thoughts take over my sole existence.

The voices, the noises, the places, all that, I don’t want to see, I don’t want to hear, are looming over my head, like a giant shadow.

I run, run faster, hoping to escape, but only feel more torn in my gut.

“You can never run away from who you are!” I hear it again and again as I speed up.

“Play a different song”, I tell myself. “Keep running!”, “it’s just a dream!” I hear my voice like a distant thought.

I am still running, only to find, that I have reached the end of the road. I hear the loud dark shadows catching up on me. I know, I must turn and face my worst fears, but I just fall to the ground wishing, I was someplace else.



(Sometime I wonder if writers of the famous books wrote their books in a smooth flow, I seem to be coming with random thoughts that I wish to fit into the book and without losing a moment I want to put them on a roll.)

Lives are born way before, the people to fill in them arrive. Forefathers trekking the globe, falling in love, allergic to things or emotions, living long slow lives or dying famous deaths, decide the shell of life for next many generations to come. Most of us are born, happy to fill in the structure created before them adopting the thoughts and believes, a few restless though, are born crying wanting to create their own things, make a name and worst of all defying all the rules. Stakes, cross and ghettos were invented thanks to them. Like if living on the edge is not good enough, they dream of dying off the cliff. As for this story, for better or for worst I am in love with one of these freaks.

The Curse


The Curse

Those heavenly souls gasping and murmuring, asked the lord…
“And you think this is the best of what you have ever created?”
“Oh Yes!” He replied, with a smug smile.
“But look at the way its curved and molded, must have gone something wrong with the structure…”
“This wrong shall set you all right to the heaven”, is all HE said.
“But what good is it? It seems so frail!!”
HE cleared his throat,
“She is strong enough to carry you around for long, even before you will exist…
She is my dears, what I call, your passage to the mortal world below…”
Horror set through them all, followed by…
“Look at those eyes, my chest feels strange, the way she looks at me… those wicked evil eyes…”
“We must banish it …
She must not be one of us…
“Thou shall be on the mercy of your own kind for every breath you will heave…”
“One of us shall write your fate… whosoever thy shall choose to mate…”
Satisfied with the chosen words… those heavenly souls smiled. Just as lord turned his back, they threw her off the skies…
As she fell from the heavens above, they casted worst curse of all…
“And thou shall dream my love… thou shall dream till you weep”

                                                  And with that curse I was born. I, the girl as you can tell, arrived in this world on an early spring morning after a long wait. My mom’s cousin had already gone back home to her own kids as I dint show up till about 2 weeks past the expected date. Don’t blame me! I am sure they got the day wrong. Even with my usual not so punctual self, I am certain I couldn’t have missed the mark so bad.

Younger to a brother I was the first daughter, the predecessor of, 3 more, waiting to turn up at the same doorstep. Even with the angel (the dark one) like brother, watching me over, I was quite a handful child. Hence while reading this text, many a times you will wonder, why this almost funny, ordinary life turned out to be so complicated. It’s all about dreams fellas; it’s the dreams that ruin the perfect lives. It’s the dreams that can make you turn in bed like if you were already in the grave. It’s these reckless dreams that make you want to be someplace else even when you don’t know where or why.  That’s why, I am the one with curse, cursed to dream till I weep.

 To be continued…