Mendacity and Vulnerability. 

“The sun hid behind the clouds. It was a black and white kind of colourful day. My feet sweaty from nervousness and fright, and my palms, waiting to hold a freshly brewed cup of caffeine, waiting to kiss my escape, and play tongue with the taste of it.
There was no wind that day, but there was essence. The essence of heavy silence. The precedent of uncomfortable loose thoughts like threads from a torn cloth. An essence that always lingered like a question unanswered. 
My mind spoke to me, or did it?


The peculiarity of normal things is that no one talks about it and because no one talks about it, it’s normal.

Vulnerability, however, is pretty normal, yet not spoken about.

Considered a weakness, vulnerability is looked at with shadowed eyes of plastered strength. 

There is a demand to be stone. 

There is a demand to be concrete. 
“It is beautiful to be vulnerable” somebody once told me and I wondered,

if it would be beautiful for me to panic, with a terrible heart ache like when a spear is stuck inside it, and I can’t pull it out, 

if it would be beautiful to break down in the middle of the night while everyone around is dancing to music and your ravenous mind is waiting to devour you whole.

I wondered if it would be beautiful to tell someone that I’m insecure about my appearances, I know I shouldn’t be, I know I show I’m confident but I am.

I wondered if it would be beautiful if I woke up screaming from a nightmare almost every night because someone taught me to be afraid of the dark when I could barely understand what this world was about. 
I wondered if at all vulnerability was beautiful, and I realised it was. It was beautiful because it was like looking at somebody’s naked soul, nothing to hide, 

but the world does not the naked soul beautiful.

The world is in love with a thousand levels of mendacity, and here we are, 

hating the truth 

hating the fact that we as humans are, after all, vulnerable 
because, come on, 

aren’t we too?”


13 reasons why inspired. 

“The thing about hurt, I realised is that every little thing can bring in the feeling of pain. It doesn’t matter how important or unimportant the person is, words, intimidating or judgemental glances, giggles full of mockery and insult, rumours, every little thing matters. We may stiffen up our brow, play pretend and say that “who cares what others think” but the truth is we do care. It bothers us on levels we do not comprehend. Little insults, masked as pleasantries and deemed as acceptable can hurt somebody to an extent that you cannot estimate and no that does not make a person a ‘sissy’ ‘not tough’ or a ‘pussy’.
It does not. 
What hurts, hurts and that is fine because if someone were to hurt us too more often than not we would react the same way too. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you don’t know what somebody has or is going through, you don’t know how it can hurt somebody and what it can lead, you don’t know that something you think is a ‘joke’ can be a serious matter to somebody else. 
I guess what I’m saying is don’t hurt people, intentionally or unintentionally. Don’t push them towards becoming a stoic person, or a person who ends up in a really bad place. 
I guess what I’m saying is, just don’t be an asshole.”

Body shaming.

Two nice things we could do, One, stop telling people that they should bring changes in their body. 

Body shaming is not a petty thing. The girl you called fat, cries herself to sleep because she thinks less of herself and now starves to lose weight.

The boy you call skinny is over eating and straining his body at the gym to conform to your stupid idea of beauty and so your stupid mind can accept the least of him.

Why? Dont body shame people and don’t let people body shame you.

Stop telling people that they are not okay the way they are. You go around telling people to tone down and gain weight to look acceptable? Well, what’s not acceptable is your narrow mindedness that cannot accept the mere truth that everybody is just okay the way they are. 

Stop using phrases like ‘Real’ men have beards and are fit and ‘Real’ women have curves and not bones etc. 

Real men and women are however they want to be and they ought to be.

Real men and women dont let the world decide for them

and ‘Real men and women’ accept others for whatever they are.

Don’t ever, ever make somebody feel like they are not enough, that they are not acceptable the way they are.. because that’s brutal.

And secondly. Don’t let anybody body shame you. 

You are perfectly yourself and that’s the most beautiful you could ever be. Want to eat A large pizza by yourself? Eat it. Want to go take a run in the park? Do it. 

Want to be fit? Want to be fat? Do it, but, do it for yourself and not for every other stupid mind that thinks you should change. Your reasons to change should start and end with only you. The best thing you can do for yourself in this world of criticism is be an encouragement, so begin with yourself.


We underestimate coincidence. Some of us are such strong believers of destiny, we forget how strong a coincidence can be. There is no science, no explanation for a coincidence. It’s a small phenomenon but it is so important. Imagine if you hadn’t stayed back a little late at the book store, would you have met a particular friend. What if you had taken the 9:40 local over the 9:45 and it saved your life from the bomb blast. Some things tend to happen because we are at the right place at the right time and nothing can tell. You meet your significant other is also a big falling together of many coincidences, hadn’t you gone to that party and spilled his drink, would you talk? Hadn’t you accidentally made too much eye contact would you know each other at all. I believe these little things have a lot more power than other big things like destiny do. Believe in the little. Believe in everything – WANDERER 

The heart of a maker 

An artist has a chaotic cacophonous mind, a pile of unraveled ideas and there is always a strive for perfection.

The creations that we see from the vigour inside them, the emotions of their heart, the ink stains on their fingers or charcoal at the edge of their clothes, are hard work.

Sweat. Heart. Mind and Blood made one into something to inspire. Respect the work of an artist, a poet, a musician, or anybody who puts out their work, their creations in the world. You may have criticism and that is acceptable, yes they are open to criticism but don’t trample the energy in somebody just because. You don’t know what hell they’ve walked through, the fires they carry and breathe in to make what they make. -Wanderer