Home.

Image Source: https://quotesgram.com/importance-of-family-quotes/

Home? Can four walls encompassing few people be called a home? Is it important in defining us? How important is it in shaping us, making us who we are today?

I have been plagued by these questions for some time now.

My story started in Kolkata, capital of  West Bengal, a state in the north east part of India. West Bengal is not that hard to find. It has a rich history which is easily available on Google. I was born and brought up here. All my firsts, starting from learning to talk, learning to stand, learning to write, learning to understand the world and its people, every first started from here. This place, out of thousand other places became the reason for my existence.

How can a place, a place so small compared to the rest of the world, the rest of the universe become so important? The point of this post is to find an answer to that.

When I started thinking about this question, one recurring answer came to mind, my family. This place does have something that no other places in this world has, my family. It is the family that roots me to this place. My brother says "You never give up on your family." Indeed! What I have learnt is that when everything else ends, it is the family that stays. Family never leaves, never judges, never hate. It became the only static in my life.

I believe everything is built on a foundation. A tree will not survive the storm if it did not have strong, firm roots to hold it still. A building will not survive gravity unless it has those iron rods to give it foundation. A relationship will not mature if it did not have the foundation of love, mutual respect and trust. An artist can never dream and create if he does not have the foundation of his imagination. Foundation.

Family gives foundation. The courage to fight the world, to stand up for yourself, to chase your dreams, to learn to feel, to learn to love, to learn to trust, to learn to laugh, to learn to share pain. The basis for your existence becomes the family, the air to give flight to the wild creature buried deep inside your heart. It becomes the roots for one's tree of life to expand and branch out.

It is the family that makes a building made of bricks, a Home.

In the end, it's me and me alone that matters!

Photo Credit: http://imgur.com/u37f4pC

I am not proud of some of the things I have done in my life. I am a selfish person. I only do what I want to do, I only believe what I want to believe, irrespective of it being wrong or right. I have lost people throughout. Sometimes I have cared, sometimes I did not give a fuck. Why I am writing this post?

Because in spite of being a horrible friend, a horrible sister, a horrible person, I have two people, my brother and my best friend, standing beside me always, through everything good or bad. And that is enough!

It bothered me before, when I thought about how many friends I had in school, how many times a week I used to go out clubbing, shopping or to the malls. It bothered me how from being with so many people I ended up being with just one friend from school, how I ended up being, spending all my time alone, inside the four walls of my room. This room, where I am sitting and writing this post, just a month back made me claustrophobic, suffocated me. Not anymore!

Somewhere between then and now, I realised something. I realised how important it is to take out time for me, to be with just me, to read my favourite book, to watch my favourite movie, to spend an hour working out in the gym in spite of being a lazy ass, to take a stroll on my terrace under a blanket full of stars with the night surrounding me, to spend time sitting on my window sill, smoking a cigarette and talking to me. It's amazing. It's the most beautiful feeling I have felt in a long time. Just me and the world. How this happened? How I felt the extraordinary out of the ordinary?

Well! It happened when I opened myself to the world. It happened when I severed ties with everything that I did not need, the people who does not matter, the world that judges, the ego that grows, the self pity that feeds.

We, humans have this tendency to cover our emptiness with people, we tend to cling to companionships, intimacies, thinking that the key to our happiness lies with the people we are with. It's true to some extent. It's okay to be with people and feel happy, and complete. But that happiness, that sense of completeness does not last forever. That happiness never grows. As there is no growth in emptiness. It's hollow. The state of feeling whole and complete comes from within. Peace is an inner journey, a mission to discover one as an individual in this vast universe.

In the end, it's me and me alone that matters!

"I am not okay!"

I am not okay!

Even after all these years, even after shifting places I am chased by my insecurities and pain.

What I could never understand is how my life became like this, so disarray and jumbled. I was a good student in school, with dreams, big dreams that made me who I was. I was a dreamer, a person who in spite of falling down a thousand times, stood up and fixed it. Now... I just give up. I try, I actually try to stand up. But I guess I am just tired. I am tired of getting up each morning and not being the person I used to be, I am tired of being a coward and not pursue my own happiness, I am tired of dreaming things and not chasing after them, above all I am tired of fighting to make something out of each day.

I read this quote somewhere

 "I have this strange feeling that I'm not myself anymore. It's hard to put into words, but I guess it's like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling."

This quote feels like it was written for me. It hits right at home. Because no matter how much I try I cannot, any more be me. That girl, who was so optimistic, so full of life, so inspirational is lost.

The world took her.

I am plagued by how people time and again used me, how people ruthlessly left me, how I always have been a pain in the ass for my parents, how I have always let them down, how I keep letting myself .
My insides are like a burning furnace, with everything engulfing me.

I have no peace left in me. Anymore.

~Starting Fresh~

How important is “starting fresh”?

“Starting fresh” is the best thing that can happen to you. Why…? Simple…! You grow up in a town among people who soon become our family, friends, best friends, relatives. Relationships are the best thing that can happen to you, so are the memories that you built with them over the years.

After few years, you start feeling constricted, bounded to the family, friends, relatives that you made over the years. You get stuck in the cage of their expectations from us, to your responsibilities towards them. And somewhere in the middle, you forget where you as an individual stand in this world. You forget our identity, you aspirations and start defining or refining yourselves from the point of view of how people want to see you! You want to move forward but you can’t move beyond a point, you remain stuck in the humdrum life of yours, clinging by a thread to your sanity.

Desperation, depression, worthlessness, insanity, self-destruction takes hold of you!
That’s when you need to break free, to escape the human cave and be free. To break free from the bonds of relations, their expectations, their captivity and expand your wings as far as possible to find out that thing, the one unique thing, that makes you “YOU”!

~The Storm~

I ran to the terrace and found her there.

Her music was everywhere, the ceaseless platter of the rain on my terrace floor, the rushing of the winds from all sides.

I felt her rage, her power in her strong winds, blowing around me, making everything tremble and shake in her quake. I felt her agony, her heart-wrenching pleas to be heard, to be understood, much like the chaos deep inside my heart. Her diamond like tears, the tears that until then she had buried inside, were falling effortlessly.

Standing there with her surrounding me, I opened my arms wide and let her purify me, rejuvenate me from everything that was holding me back. In that moment, we were nothing but one. Two broken souls, finally finding and embracing each other!

What Is "happiness"?

“Happiness”

What is it? Is it a feeling or a certain period in our life or a …… what?

All I know is that it does not last forever, it’s fleeting. Almost like a sudden gust of wind on a still silent night, filling you with a warm glow and then in a poof it’s gone.

When I search my past for a particular period when I was happy, I come up with answers I least expect. What I dig out are moments, a couple of seconds or minutes, when I know I have been happy!

Like….

“On one boring day, while coming back from somewhere I was in my car, waiting at the signal. On looking around, I saw few kids playing hide and seek, one of my all-time favorite games. That moment all I wanted was to get out of the car and join them. Yeah, the game was that tempting! J But there was no way I could have just abandoned my car!

I saw one of the kids hide inside a shop. After few lengthy boring minutes of waiting inside and in vain, he decided to come out and see where the seeker is. And the seeker was right outside the shop! I could not have let the kid bring his own demise and get caught, so I kind of frantically waved at him and warned him to stay inside. Understanding my warning, he smiled at me and remained inside.
Then the signal turned green and the car moved forward!”

I don’t remember much of what happened that day except my encounter with that one kid playing hide and seek. That moment, the moment when I frantically waved my hands and asked the kid to remain inside the shop because the seeker was right outside was one of those moments when I truly believe I have felt “happiness”.

Now, if one asks me “What really is happiness!?” I say “Happiness is happiness, a moment of uncontrollable joy! That’s it!”

~Mayo-Corn Sandwich~

This is our legendary Mayo Corn Sandwich. Legendary..Why? There is a loooong story behind it.

Every four years, our school conducts a fest called the “Spectrum”. Each and every student of our school has to participate. We are taken to the fields and given training for six to seven months. After every practice, we are provided with food packets containing pastas, fruits, pizzas, cookies, cakes and this “Mayo-Corn” sandwich. I remember trading my cookies for this sandwich. I love  love loved it! And everyone around me loved it too. It was really hard to find a trading partner. L

The Spectrum was undoubtedly the best part of our school life. There used to be less number of classes and more amount of fun. Reminiscing about it now makes me want to go back to school so damn much.

Well, getting back to this mayo corn sandwich.

For days I have been thinking of making this. Mayo and corn are too of my favorite things in the world. One day, I finally did. The moment I posted a picture of my version of the Mayo-Corn sandwich in Facebook, it became a hit. I decided then and there to give it in my blog. So here it is-

The Recipe-

4-5 tbsp Mayonnaise

½ tsp freshly ground Black Pepper

½ cup Sweet Corn

4 slices of Fresh Brown Bread

1 tbsp Butter or Margarine

The Procedure-
First is preparing the Corn-

Boil the corn until they are golden in color. Heat some butter or margarine on a wok, and fry the boiled corn for five to seven minutes.

Second is to make the Mayo Corn mixture-

Take a medium sized bowl and put about 4 to 5 tablespoon of Mayonnaise on it. Add the ½ teaspoon of freshly ground black pepper and the prepared golden fried corn (step one). Now mix everything together. And keep it aside.

Third is toasting the bread slices-

Heat a tava and place the bread one by one on it. Toast both sides of each slices of bread until they are brown in color.

Fourth is assembling the second and the third step-

Take a toasted slice of bread (step three) and put the mayo-corn mixture (step two) on it and cover it with another slice of toasted bread.

"Mayo Corn Sandwich"

The Mayo Corn Sandwich is ready now! And it is deliciously awesomely yummy!J

In Night's Presence...

Last night was so beautiful that sleep was eluding me! I was lying down on my bed, which was half drowned in moon’s shimmering light, and tried with everything in me to sleep, to mute the loud voices inside my head.  There was something about Night’s presence, that every time I sought her, she surrounded me, she made me feel safe! Her quietness, Her shadows, Her lone silent songs did havoc on my senses.

After hours of trying to sleep and in vain, I got out of my bed and walked towards my window and just stood there, staring into nothingness. I stood there and thought about all the things that was bothering me, the never ending fears, the endless insecurities, the silent cries of my heart.

Then in a snap, just like that I forgot, I forgot that I am being chased by my demons, the past that never seems to let go of me. It was then that I felt her presence, Night’s presence. Her moon shinning brightly in the sky, the black shroud that she has cast over everything surrounding me, the stillness of her beauty and her presence everything. Suddenly, I did not feel alone. I felt accepted, I felt Night hugging me tight and whispering that I am not alone, that Night herself is with me. Right there, in that moment, I felt the voices inside my head subside and I let myself be free!

Today....I Ran!

I ran today. After three years of telling people that I have forgotten to run, of fearing whether I will ever run again, of feeling like a handicapped. I ran.

When my trainer asked me to run, I gave him an odd look. I told him I have forgotten to run. There it was, the fear, the fucking fear that always has a hold over me. But today, I said Fuck You Fear. I want to run without you following me everywhere. At first, I ran slowly, then as I gained speed, a beautiful feeling, something close to paradise got hold over me. I felt free! I felt liberated! I felt on top of the world! No pain in my leg, No thinking that I can’t run ever, No thinking of me as a handicapped. At that moment all that mattered was me running For The First Time In Three Years!

When I was lying bed ridden in my hospital, I drove my mom crazy saying “Maa, I want to walk! Maa, I want to walk!” When I started to walk in slow steps, holding a stick for support in my hand, I told my mother “Maa, I want to walk, walk and walk. I want to see the world without holding a stupid stick in my hand. I want to walk without feeling the never ending pain in my leg. I want to walk as normal people without having anything to worry about.” When I walked the first time without the stick in my hand, I told my mother “Maa, I will not feel normal until I run. I have to run. Running is me, a part of who I am. Until I run, I will never feel free.”

And today for the first time in three years, I was.

What happens in the end...!?

Last Monday, I asked my mother “Hey mom, just before we die, what is the one thing that stays with us?”

Mom gave me a blank look and went back to her work, probably thinking I was having another of my regular philosophical musings. This was no slight wandering of my mind! This thought came to me Sunday night while I was on Facebook. I came across a picture, where I saw a man lying on his death bed with his entire family around him. There were also some beautiful lines written below it. I don’t exactly remember the lines but the thoughts revolved around

Who cares how many degrees we have! How much money we earn or how many palaces we build! In the end we all die alone, taking with us the memories of the relations that we have made throughout our life.

When all else fails, there's still family......

As a participant of this crazy human race, I too have certain high dreams and aspirations. I won’t say that in twenty years of grazing through life I have got whatever I wished for. If I sit down to think about the dreams I did not achieve then I will have no other option than breaking down. But when I actually look at the things I have, I feel full. I have a big awesome family, comprising of my total sweet heart father, totally chaotic mother, not too grown up brother, and a bunch of silly, never boring friends.

It’s true when they say, “We come to this world alone, We work alone, We live alone, We depart alone”. But wouldn’t this life be too boring, too colorless without these stupid stupid relationships?

Few days back, I was out of town for about three days. I was on the phone with my father, when he enquired “When are you getting back!? It’s been ages since I last saw you!” Then after returning, when I opened my Facebook wall, I see a post “Heyya sis, Call me” (this one was from my brother after about six hours of leaving home). And then you have your friends! I seriously have no idea what I would have done without them! They are always there. When you don’t want to talk, they have to talk, bug and irritate until you come out clean. When you want to talk, they are too bust with assignments, work to even do so. God! They drive me mad! Their never ending demands, their never ending parenting, the horrible fights, the gossips. God! Is there any moment when you guys are not there?

May be! Life is not about big things but about these small and big, significant and insignificant moments. Later when you sum them up, they grow into something gigantic, something much more precious, something much more powerful, something worth fighting for, they all grow into a one big “family”.

Inferno!

I know quitting is a sign of weakness! I know quitting is a sign of cowardice! But what should one do when quitting is the only path to redemption.

I am a victim of claustrophobia, the intense feelings of having the walls around my room close on to me and leave me nothing but suffocated, of having trouble breathing and desperately wanting to run away to someplace new, someplace devoid of past memories. It’s not that I have not tried, but each time this desperation, this suffocation follows me.

I am not happy, not because I am not loved, not because I don’t have the things necessary to live, simply because I don’t know what I want. I crave things which I know is not right for me, I want those who will never stand by me. I want to belong, to be part of something, to bring together the missing pieces of my life.

For the first time I am restraining, not because it makes me feel safe, but because I know it’s the right thing to do. May be this hopelessness, this desperation is because of fighting my battle alone, of finding no one to turn to! May be this is life’s test to make me stronger, more harder! Or maybe this is another passing chapter in the never ending flow of life!

"I Miss My Best Friend!"

“I miss my best friend!” he said, in his old selfish voice.

I had a strong urge to ask, “Your best friend…!? Who exactly….!? Are you talking about the one whom you left behind when the urge to save yourself became more important than mine?”

That should have been my reaction but at that moment, I honestly felt nothing. After months and years of hating him, of trying to forget him, of plucking out all his ingrained memories, I am tired, I am terribly tired!

For years, I have tried to define our relationship and for the first time I have my answer. Earlier, during the peaceful days, the revelation should have brought me comfort but all it does now is bring back feelings of stinking revulsion.

Because between him, my past and my future lie that day, the day, when he proved that I was nothing more than a leaf fallen under a maple tree, in the pregnant months of autumn.

A Letter To My "Cute as Button" Brother......

To the shining light of my life,

I always wanted to write this letter, "our letter", to tell you how beautifully you entered my world and made it bright. You were the light to my darkness, you were the ray of hope at the end of my long dark tunnel.

The first time I saw you, was when father took me to the hospital, one fine day, the day you came into this world. A white cloth was wrapped around your body. You were the tiniest, the cutest thing that I have ever seen and you had just peed on the sheet (don’t kill me for mentioning it). I fell in love, sweety, I was totally lost. That moment will forever be etched in my mind because that day I found the other half of myself, my partner in crime, my life's greatest joy, my brother.

You were the sweetest thing I ever saw. You came to me for almost everything, at times to the point of me going nuts. Once, I remember being so angry at you that I left you behind and brought your friend a toffee. You, like the poor kid, who was left behind, followed me and got hit by a cycle. You broke your collar bone. I was terrified that I did that to you. I was too small to understand that I was selfish, that I should have accompanied you rather than leave you behind. It was not one of my proudest moments. I was too small to understand what you were to me, to understand that I should have taken greater care of you. I was too small.

When the people who loves you, who can do anything for you, who will love you unconditionally not caring the evil that you hoard inside is beside you, you seldom give a shit. You do not understand their importance, you push them away, you play with them, until they are too far away from you to get hold off.

I understand your importance, your absence the most when I found myself in the hospital. That moment I wanted to ensure everything was normal even when my whole world was anything but normal. I was lying there on that lone hospital bed alone, my partner in crime missing. I wanted you beside me, just like I spent 16 years of my life, sleeping beside each other, talking about the most silliest of stuffs, talking about some guy in my life, some girl in your life, talking...speculating about the ending of some book,some movie, some game that intrigued us. That was our life hon. The whole day, spent apart in school, or somewhere but at night together sharing tit-bits of our daily mundane life. That was being normal to me. Not me lying, helplessly on that stupid fucking hospital bed.

I saw you retreat into yourself, you created a world inside yourself, where you stored your each feeling, your each thought, your everything. And for the first time, I was not part of that world. I wanted to reach out so badly, because seeing you like that took the life out of me. I felt desperate hon. I felt wrung out from inside. It felt as if there is a gulf, never ending gulf between us. And I was responsible.

Somehow, we have learned to live, to be a part of each other's life but I still feel that emptiness inside me, the place that was yours, that you left but never reclaimed. I hope hon with all my heart, that one day, you will learn to trust me like you used to, to see me like you used to.

I have seen you grow up from a boy to a young man, a man who is not only beautiful but with a golden heart, a man not only honest but valiant. You are a survivor hon. You have gone through some of life's worst times but still I see you standing straight, trying to be something more. I know someday you will be a leader, a beautiful person doing good to our country and her people. 

I can't wait for that day to come.

Me and My Brother

P.S: I completely adore your blog. It's so full of you, your principles and ideas. You have made me one hell of a proud sister. Keep writing!

Love,
Your Sister

The Moments of Impact...!

I always wanted to hate my mother. She looked after my needs, gave me more than I needed but was not there when I wanted her to understand me, my world. She found fault in everything I did: the long hours spent in the mall, longs hours spent over the phone, the people I hanged out with, the books I loved to read, in short nearly everything. When brother did something really bad, the blame came on to me. When he was not studying, I must have done something to distract him. 

My heart cried her own secret battle for her attention, her understanding. But it never happened. I wanted to shout on top of my voice “Why me?” When it became too much to bear, I shouted, I shouted angry bitter words and my heart cried retribution. Later, I remember being termed as “vehemently rude”.

Life has made me fall a thousand times, sometimes due to my stupidity, at times due to circumstances. It never bothered me. Isn’t life all about falling and getting up? Failures never swayed my unremitting confidence. “If one door closes than in some other place another opens!” My motto is pretty much that. But my mother was my opposite. When I was the optimist, she became my nemesis. She wanted to protect me from failures but can she?....if that’s what life has in store for me. I remember telling her just that more than a million times. Each time, she managed to bypass my words and succinctly put forward her warnings.

The daily tiffs left me utterly disgusted. I wanted a mother not a dictator. After all these years, I can say with conviction that she has not changed a bit. There were moments, strong moments when I wanted to hate her with every fibre of my being. The hell with her domineering attitude!

But I never brought myself to do that. I always found myself transported to one of those times, the moments of impact, when she became the mother I wanted her to be “the soft caring lioness”……..

Long long summers back, on a late afternoon, I was having my light afternoon slumber, when I felt my mother enter my room. She had just returned from office. She slowly came towards me and lightly brushed her hand through my hair. Neither I was awake nor I was sleeping, but like a fossil that moment is forever engraved in my memory. I can’t really explain what I was going through then, but it felt as if slow electricity was passing through my body. In that moment, I knew with clarity what it feels like to be the Kohinoor diamond.

The moments of impact….The moments of impact tells us what we really feel about a person. We can’t change a person but what we can is to accept them as they are. If I sit down to remember my mother’s harsh scathing accusations then it will take me forever to forgive her. Every time the thought of hatred passes through my mind, I remember that moment and everything else becomes blurred. In that one moment, I saw her love for me and nothing else is bigger than that.

Life is not about holding grudges, but it is about forgiving. Just because a person does not do things the way we want them to be, we start hating them. In moments when you start doubting a persons’ devotion or love for you, remember the moments of impact, when that same person treated you as the precious Kohinoor diamond.

Your heart will know the answers!

The Questions Unanswered.....!

I don’t know what is right anymore! Two days back, I was desperate to get away from home. The pink coloured walls of my room held me like the prison bars, crippling me from the living my life the way I wanted. I was sure of finding my peace in an unknown place among unknown people. When all these became too much for me to bear, I ran, I ran far far away from home, in my search for peace.

It was all planned. I, finding myself in an unknown place, surrounded by unknown people, with no one to question, no one to point his or her fingers at me, at my past. That was all I hope, all I desired. But the moment I reached my destination, I was not sure of my intentions anymore.

I have been asked often “How are you?” Each time I replied “I am fine!” People hear, they smile, they give their best wishes, they leave. The predictable end!

There obvious question, each time, opens the wound, which never seems to heal. Do they seriously want to know what I am going through or are the questions a part of their social duty? Do they really care? If they do care, than why don’t they see the blatant lie behind the words “I am fine”!

I wish I had the answers. When I sit…When I actually sit to find the answers to these questions, I face a void, as if someone has put a black shroud over my head, stopping me from my answers.

What am I running from or what is it that’s holding me back from living the life I have long dream of, I know naught. All I know is that this can’t go long. Sooner or later I have to decipher the maze and find my answers.

Soon…!!!

The New Dawn!

I woke up hearing the bird’s chirrups, drenched in the welcoming glow of the early winter sun, with new hopes and new resolutions for this year.

Two years have passed since that frightful night when I found myself in a strange white bed at the hospital with people I hardly knew tearing at my clothes. Previously, Ghosts were scarier but lying down helplessly in that strange bed made life itself a horror movie. I saw my family, resembling a bar of enticing Swiss chocolate, standing a foot away, forbidden to come anywhere near me. 

Two years…since that frightful night, the night I lost a part of me! Two years…to bring together the broken pieces of my scattered life! Two years…to prepare the new me for a new beginning!

With the blurred beginning, it was impossible to determine the end, things looked too scary and impossible. As the end approached, I found myself swiftly sailing towards the new me leaving behind the naivety of my old self. Everyone thought it was some divine miraculous power that gave me the strength to fight. I agree! There was a power, but it had little to do with the divine and more to do with the people around me.

The power came from my friends and my family. I have heard people saying that when you need your friends and family the most, they always let you down. I disagree. During my darkest time, when hell seemed a better option, I found them right beside me, each one of them with love and conviction in their eyes. Many people came and went, each giving me a beautiful memory, providing the foundation to build my life on.

With this post, I extend my love to all those people who were there right beside me, when I needed them the most, during the most dreadful misfortune of my life.
Love You all!!!

JJJJJ

Have you dealt with your past?

“She is cracked, lost in her own dream land” I hear them say. I have never expected people to understand, they revel in gossip. I pretend not to listen and concentrate on the screen of my laptop.

Sometimes, I wish I can pluck out the sadness, which creeps like the cold through my warm blanket. Last night, I dreamt of the ghost, the questions seared in my blood, craving for retribution.

Once, my best friend asked “Why do her memories crush every bit of my will to live?”

I replied solemnly “You are yet to face your past, may be in time, you will learn to cope.”

He agreed signalling the end of our conversation.

Then, later as I lay awake, a doubt crept through my musings

“Have I dealt with my own?”

In her depth, I found peace....

I have always felt the happiest, among my plants, in my terrace. It is one of those places, where I can finally be myself, with no one to order, no one to disturb, just me and my thoughts. I till the soil, mix the manure, trim the plants. It is a welcome pain, It makes me feel alive and close to Nature, who accepted me without my explanations.

During my youthful days, in one of those idyllic afternoons, I fell in love, with my grandmother’s garden. I looked around thunderstruck with appreciation for nature and her abundance. It was instantaneous and lasting. Later, I remember telling my grandmother “Dida, Please leave the garden to me as a part of your legacy.”

She agreed.

In my childhood exuberance, I forgot, things don’t last forever, no matter how much we want them to. Soon came a day, when I did the hardest thing, I bid adieu to the place, where I have felt the happiest. Time and again, my mind wonders to that distant garden, the images blurred due to age and questions like “who inhibits that place now? Who enjoys the same day to day thrill that I have once felt?” creates a momentary riot in my head.

Raindrops after Long months of Droughts!

There is an uncanny unpredictability about life. When things start to look the darkest, something wonderful happens to brighten it up. Just now, I finished my one hour long conversation with my best friend. There is this thing about him, he always tells me things, I don’t want to hear. I hate hearing the truth from him and it eventually ends in a fight. Sometimes, it irritates me, sometimes it makes me happy, I feel alive.

We talked about everything to everything. It’s strange how we have bonded in all these years. Eerily, he knows everything, even when I keep quiet and pretend to listen. Often, I wondered whether he truly knew. But then during my darkest times, he saying, in his deep quiet voice, "I Understand!", feels like the raindrops after long months of droughts.