The Girl Who Shoots

At least once in life, if you can, meet a girl who shoots. Chat with her, share a drink, listen to her, and she'll show you a world you had never imagined. That camera is her heart and she wears it on her sleeve. She's not your typical girl who doesn't get tired of filling up carts on Myntra. She doesn't understand that. Watch her save religiously every month to buy a new lens or a tripod and you'll know she's not in it for some fad.

Listen to her stories 'cos she has too many of them. Each photograph actually means a thousand words(and much more) to her. Ask her what she wants and she will tell you about a life dedicated to her passion, a life of freedom beyond a 9-to-5 job. Just say yes and she will plan out all your impromptu trips for you, including the excuse to give to your boss.

Travel with her. Accompany her on a tiring trek to the top of a mountain for that fifteen-minute heavenly view of a misty sunset, as the clouds settle in a fluffy blanket over the valley. You may have complained the entire way up but bless her when you see that view. Relish the beauty of that peaceful solitude. Don't just try to capture it, live it like she does.

Learn from her. She'll teach you to see both sides of the coin. Nothing is good or bad for her, it's all in her hands. Learn how she plays with light to manipulate your perspective. Let go of your notions and follow her lead as she will take you outside your metaphorical box of prejudice and bias.

Ask her for advice, but don't expect any rosy lies. You may drown her in details of all the nonsense in your life but she has an eye that sees beyond it. Stand dumbfounded as she cuts through the clutter with unabashed honesty and simplicity. Talk about your dreams and watch her eyes light up. Cry about your past and she'll give you a smack on your head to knock some sense into it. She doesn't carry any baggage; she lives in the present, in the midst of sparkling dreams of future.

Oh yes, she will drive you crazy at times. Watch in bewilderment as she swoons over the perfect clicking sound of the more expensive DSLRs or as she constantly plans out her next equipment shopping trip. Just sit back and smile as she will slowly make you a subject matter expert on photography.

Generous in her appreciation, a tad uncomfortable in receiving praises, the girl who shoots is probably the best kind of girl out there. If and when you do meet her, a hat tip to you sire, 'cos you may have just met a gem of a person.

P.S: Happy birthday Aakriti! :)

Just

Sometimes, you just feel like writing, merely for the sake of it. You don't really have anything in particular to write about. Your mind is lazily thinking about the little pleasures of life(without giving you any specifics) and you are simply putting pen to paper at a breakneck speed and letting the ink flow. You have absolutely no idea about anything but you still continue writing, maybe just to acknowledge the moment. You ransack your heart for inspiration, and there amongst the clutter, you happen to stumble upon a tiny gleam of unadulterated joy. Just the tiniest amount, to give a little curl to your lips.

Well, that was it. Your mind begins to wander as you start to retreat to your lazy-bum groove. You read whatever you have written so far and it's basically bullshit, but you don't really mind. You had your moment at that crazy writing speed and the worm-like words(your handwriting) will stand a testament to that. You know you have to stop soon. You have to get closure for the vibe that just passed. It's time for you to sign off. Ciao!

10 Things To Do Before I Graduate

Just some of the things that came to my mind in the last half an hour. Here it goes:

1. Visit Nanakmatta
2. Bicycle around the campus
3. Win a sports tournament
4. Shoot a short film in the campus
5. Do a 24-hour design marathon
6. Make an early morning trip to Lohni
7. Witness snowfall in Nainital
8. Organise a FIFA tournament in hostel
9. Participate in Inspire India in Colosseum'14
10. Learn to dance

A Journey Through The Night

  It was a clear navy blue sky with a few tiny stars and a distant pale white crescent shrouded in misty mysteries, calm, serene and silent, illuminating the sleeping fields dotted with random trees, the grasslands and the endless stretches of seeming nothingness. A train was seething right through the middle of the wilderness, shattering the silence with it.

  A lonely soul with his head on the window of the train, the slightly cool wind ruffling his hair. A pair of bespectacled searching eyes while a Pink Floyd song eased into his brain. A brief stop at a station, a third person's view of the hurries of the worried life, and he knew it was a time of likable loneliness, a time in the company of oneself, a chance to peek inside.

  He could feel himself breathing. A sense of freedom reverberated through his body. He had left everything behind. He had left the nonsense. He knew he wasn't running away from it, no, he wasn't naive to think that, but in that particular time frame, he felt detached like a soul that had attained salvation. There was nothing to bog him down, no one could pull him back or obstruct his path. He was moving forward, undeterred, like a river that flows down a mountain with zealous carelessness.

  He had all the time in the world to ponder and to question. He could look at his life so far, in the trees and the stones that ran past him in the opposite direction. He had no regrets. He felt calm and peaceful as a grateful surge of relief aerated his spirit. He looked at the horizon, an occasional dotted illumination of habitation against the darkness of night. He closed his eyes, soaked in the moment of unbound liberty, and smiled to himself, at the realization of the final stop, the promise of the destination, the ecstasy of the journey.

The Flickering Flame

The 8 am extra class, weekend movie trip, electronics assignment due for next week, midnight Maggi party, practice with the dance crew, 2 shots of Real Guava Nectar, sleeping in the lecture hall, evening chat sessions, watching him from the corner of the eye. Pause.

She was lying on her bed, her curly hair scattered all around her head. Her endless stream of thoughts had suddenly been disrupted by him.

He’s such an idiot, the laziest soul on this planet. Always soaked in deodorant, he doesn’t even bath daily. I’ve to stop thinking about him.

She had to stop the distraction. She could smell a niner this semester. She just had to stick to the plan, and thinking about him certainly wasn’t a part of it. She sat up, pulled back a stray strand of hair behind her ear and took out her iPod.

Damn! Plain White T’s! Why do they have to sing such romantic songs?

This has to be a conspiracy. It can’t be him. He is yet to utter a single word to me…except that awkward moment when he asked me for an extra pen, and he didn’t even return it. Always ready with a stupid smile…such a disarming stupid smile. Whatever! Enough! Peace.

Something beeped. She grabbed her mobile. The idiot had sent her a forward.

P.S: 'She' is a girl. She’s not so fond of her name. She’s shy, frank, straightforward, independent, moody, crazy, courageous, intelligent, strong, reserved and pretty, among other things. She’s unique, and trying really hard not to think about him.

One Of Those Nights...

It was probably past midnight and he was lying on his bed, in eerily comforting darkness. It was one of those nights. He was just blankly staring at the roof as a million thoughts were running through his mind.

  It had been quite a happening vacation, a roller coaster ride of emotions. But then, it had its moments too, blissful moments spent in the company of family and friends. Strangely, though he cherished those moments, they did not give him the peace that he so longed for. He needed relief from the heady mix of melancholy and pain that had engulfed him. He felt shattered.

  They kept telling him that he didn't talk much now, he didn't even smile now. They kept telling him that he had changed, as if he had a choice. He didn't have one. With every thought that came to his mind, every word he spoke, everything he did, he could feel the seething cynicism that was building up inside him. His mind was in turbulence. And there was that lingering fear of something he didn't know, a terrible dread rooted deep in his heart. He was never bothered by his past, it was probably his future that worried him so deeply.

  He felt a chill down his spine. His vision began to ebb. At first, it just blurred, then it started fading as if someone was slowly switching off the lights of a long corridor. At last, it was all dark. He could hear the birds chirping outside. He opened his eyes. He was awake now.

P.S: "He" is a guy, as you would have figured out. He doesn't have a name because he doesn't like boundations that come with it. He is a free spirit, he is anyone.

A Beginning

I don't know how this started. The thought probably struck during one of the chit-chats I was having on facebook a few days back. Why? I'll never know, but there was just a moment during that chat when all i wanted to do was write. It is a bit strange because I've never ever written a diary but I'll draw some comfort from my previous stint with writing.

  I was 12 and an Enid Blyton fan. I'll call it the Enid Blyton Effect that rubbed off on me and led me to write my first story. It was a simple(you might even say silly!) plot and coincidentally, the protagonist shared his name with yours truly. In the next few months, I wrote three more similar simple stories before the school studies started getting the better of me and the effect wore off. Seven years later, I feel an unexplained urge to rekindle that habit.

  A few words on the blog name before I end this post. Life has been a beautiful journey so far. There have been lots of memorable moments that I'll cherish for the rest of my life. This blog is an attempt to treasure all the wonderful experiences henceforth, an attempt to catch all the fascinating glimpses that life has to offer, an attempt to hold together all the breathtaking whiffs of life that make it worth living.

This is the story of the birth of this blog....