The World Within

Quite recently, a friend sent me some lyrics he had written and wanted me to go through them and let him know if they were good—simple enough, but his text also read, "Please rate them something from 1 to 10," which, however, was a little challenging part or that's what I thought. While the innocent scale started at 1 and ended at 10, it really was one going from crappy to perfect. These are things we don't mention, but the numbers really have such implications—you know it, don't you? He had written the stanzas impressively and I liked his choice and placement of words not to forget the meaning the lines conveyed, which was beyond what the words superficially stood for. After reading, feeling and absorbing all I could from his lyrics, I sent him a text letting him know that I liked it and that he'd written them well, soon after which he reminded me that I hadn't rated them—something which I had to. I hadn't just ignored that clause in his text o

I really made it today! It all began at six-thirty when my usual alarm went off. Instead of turning it back off and pulling my blanket up to my face, today, I first jumped out of my bed and then turned off the alarm. I know, those moments were critical. The bed was still attracting me strongly, though not as strong as it usually would and my blanket and pillow were throwing out an attention tantrum. I quickly hurried myself out and to the bathroom—I had to answer nature's call. Everything went on as planned. I had my milk, I even worked out after a lot of days—chest day, baby! I had a good breakfast consisting of fruits and toast and now I'm feeling quite motivated to continue my day. It is 10:16 am as I'm typing this today and usually, around this time I would be struggling to get out of my bed—just not today or for the next twenty-nine days. I have gone through all my morning chores and I am completely ready to begin with other things. The last night as I was wrapping

Every morning just as my alarm rings at half past six, the world starts to distort into something surreal. The laws of physics seemingly bend and twist, and my already fuzzy mind fails to make sense of anything around me—my bed suddenly turns into a strong 'human' magnet and I feel stuck to it, unable to move. My pillow whispers into my ear, "You need some more sleep, look just how tired you are," while my blanket gives me a hug. Oh! Those hugs are the warmest, I swear. All my plans from the previous night to wake up early and my continuously-beeping-but-helpless alarm seem to not matter at all. The alarm? The poor guy gets turned off soon after some of my mental fog clears, while my bed, the pillow and the blanket cheer and tell me how right I was to do it. The blanket hugs me even tighter, and my pillow whispers some weird lullaby to put me to sleep. I oversleep and wake up quite late—ten in the morning, and I feel as if I had been dead all that while and s

I sat on the raised platform lining and making up the queen's necklace, facing the mighty Arabian Sea. The salty oceanic breeze brushed through my dark hair ruffling them back in the wind. I felt the breeze gliding past my skin, the smooth sensation and this strange awareness that thousands of gas particles composed of Nitrogen, Oxygen, other gases and what not were literally bombarding my skin at extreme speeds and that collectively was causing the sensation I was cherishing at that moment. The concrete platform was warm due to the bright, five o'clock summer sun which was shining high up. I didn't mind the warmth seeping through my skin or the golden rays of the sun which had glazed everything else in a golden hue. The sea captivated me, as I gazed deeper into it. Everything else slowly faded into the oblivion—the various other tourists, some private guards plodding by, the blaring horns and loud car engines in the traffic jam behind me, as well as the skyscrapers

I'm a little free after all, in the sense that I can finally start getting back on track, which I've deviated a lot due to unavoidable things turning up every now and then. If I'm trying to stick to a schedule which will exponentially increase my health and productivity then I will really need some time alone with myself to get everything right and straight. In the last few weeks, whenever I've begun and tried to continue a schedule, some or the other thing has caused me to deviate from my schedule which causes me to start everything from scratch—I'm trying to establish habits which once done correctly will be hard to not stick to, but to turn a certain action into a habit, it needs to be done consistently over a sufficient period of time till it gradually gets solidified as a habit. With me? I have followed something for a few days and every time something else has popped up to break the process—just like the last three days completely reset all my progress.

Glamorous dresses, tuxedos, delicious food and unnecessary up and down, back and forth; coupled with lack of sleep and more than usual mental exertion—that's how the last three days were. It was my cousin's wedding after all, and the doting brother that I am, I had to be present there.  I hadn't taken any books for company, nor my laptop to compose any blog posts, also the commotion there made it difficult to clear my mind and channel my thoughts. I'm quite alive though, and the blog's surely gonna see some more posts coming up sooner than ever. It's the 21st of April today, 12:45 pm as I'm typing this on my phone, we're in a red spec on the expressway, heading for home. The sun's blazing hot; it's his time of the year to shine as bright as he feels like. Thankfully, the car is quite cold and comfortable inside, so we're not quite baked potatoes yet. I'm personally not into weddings. Not at all. And by that, I don't mea

Heya, there! Oh wait, let me not start with this boring and cliché introduction —let me just take you right in the middle of some action. Narrator info dumps suck, right? He was young and eighteen years into life—that's how deep into the rabbit hole he had fallen. That Thursday afternoon, inside his bearably warm room, he sat down with his laptop. His palms lay open, facing the keyboard and his dark, honey-brown eyes fixated on his laptop screen, where lay a blank page, waiting to be blotted in some sense with digital ink. He was sitting motionlessly, waiting for his autonomic nervous system to send his hands some divine impulses so that he could type out his first and introductory blog post. His long, dark brown and gravity-defying hairs were clumsily wrapping to the right side of his head. His head? It was more like a gas giant, with the hair resembling the unstopping and furious cyclonic storm systems, like the ones on the planet Jupiter.  A similar storm composed of thou