I love Winnie the Pooh

“I am a Bear of Very Little Brain, and long words bother me.” __ Winnie the Pooh

I feel that it's high time I confessed. I feel very much like a bear, who has very little brain, and who is bothered about everything including long words. The Winnie the Pooh I own is tubbier in appearance and a lot more cuter and loves honey etc. but I do genuinely feel that if we were ever to chance upon each other in life, we'd get along. It'd be good.

Modern Day Ghalib

A listless look, an upside down book,
and glasses perched upon his head.
A newspaper, and many other things
in sweet chaos litter the bed.

About Love

Have spent the better part of the morning listening to ghazals- the only kind of music that truly speaks to me. I've been wanting to write these lines down for someone to read for a while:

तेरे बारे में जब सोचा नहीं था,
मैं तन्हा था मगर इतना नहीं था.
तेरी तस्वीर से होती थी बातें,
मेरे कमरे में आइना नहीं था.

As I write, I'm pretty confident I'm delirious with fever and I can feel my eyes burn with the heat from my heart. A friend recently informed me (in utmost seriousness) that he thought that I was a closet masochist. Late night conversations end up sounding quite silly, so I paid no heed. Now that I come to think of it. It may be true. The conversation was meandering it's way through various aspects of love and people. I, obviously, was failing miserably in attempts to reason with his logic.

Beauty is always breathtaking or exhilirating. Anything other than that is just pretty and transient. There is a certain charm to pained love. I think I'm a bit of a psycho and now all those who know me well and actually give a damn have resigned themselves to the fact that I can't be part of affairs that are not torrid or crazy. In fact, I am convinced that I am incapable of loving any other way.