Secret Garden (Part II)

(Continued from Part I…)

Now, I needed those flowers more than anything, but guess what! I had plucked my whole garden for him and now there were left none for me. It was getting harder for me to live with my dark gray self and so was for him. And one fine day he had had it enough. He couldn’t stand how gloomy, and dark I was. He gave up and left. My whole world came tumbling down. Now I had nothing, not even my secret garden which I had worked so hard for. The drought was killing everything slowly, even my mind. It was no good for my already dying garden. The garden had turned into a tragic barren land.

I cried for days and weeks, back and forth, I screamed but there was no one to listen to but me. Those were some of the darkest days of my life. I contemplated, scrutinized and cursed every living moment of my life. I really wished I didn’t exist. I thought this was it, it was the end of my fucking world. I had no hope. And what was I supposed to hope for? Someone, who would find me crying, take my hand and save me from myself? Life ain’t any fairy tale, I realized, but it was too late I guess. I was tired.

Months went by, and I kept holding on thinking about the memories I had of myself, the person I was before. It was the only thing that made me smile now and then. I kept wondering if I could be anything of that sort again. Slowly and steadily I had some strength to at least stand upon the ground and walk by myself. That was it when I decided it was time. It was time to start new, start new someplace else, this secret garden had nothing for me anymore.

I took one last glance at the place that meant everything to me and started strolling towards the gate. When I was about to step out of the gate I saw something shining so brightly that it caught my eye immediately. It was nothing but a tiny little rosebud aiming for the sun, gleaming with dew drops. And first time in forever I smiled widely and thought to myself that no matter what there is still little hope for me. I knew my summer would come some day, and today it is here.

And then there was no turning back. I didn’t leave. I started all over again as not everybody gets a chance to live, a chance to do everything all over again. And this time I am not missing it. My secret garden one day will be back and maybe this time it will be better than it was before and this time I am not giving up on it ever again.


Secret Garden (Part I)

I was 10 years old when I came across a movie called Secret Garden, and I loved everything about it. A lonely girl, who still has hope, making new friends, getting hold of her life, and of course, discovering a secret garden full of roses. What’s not to like! Eventually, as the days passed by, I forgot about it.

Then recently, I came across this classic song by Bruce Springsteen of the same name and it took me back in time. The lyrics ‘She had a secret garden’ was everything. That, literally, hit me, that I too once had a secret garden, which no one ever had been a part of. It was my happy, as well as my dark place. People came and left, but nobody ever tried to break in. I had purposely made the walls too high, because what was the point of my secret garden if anyone could enter it. I was content with my flowers, they were everything I ever wanted, but fate had some different plans.

One day, I could hear someone crying in the distance. I tried to ignore it as much as I could but it kept growing. I couldn’t take it anymore, it was disturbing my gardens harmony. So I left, that right there was my biggest mistake. I was standing at the gate and could see this guy, completely gray, crying for help. I knew I had to help him, as I was in his place once. I know how it feels to be alone and helpless. So I held his hand and brought him back to my orchard which was full of joy and colors, unlike him.

I wanted to make him happy, I wanted him to able to see the colors around me, feel them, be a part of them. So, I plucked a flower, it did hurt, but I did it anyway and gave it to him. I could feel a little part of me losing color, but I did it anyway. The little flower right in front of his nose made him smile a bit. It made me feel much better than before. I couldn’t stop but show him around my garden. My naive little mind wanted him to be as radiant and colorful as I was.

So, there it goes… We were living, laughing, dreaming in my garden and whenever I saw him a bit upset I would pluck some more flowers and hand it to him. This went on for days and months. There came a time when he was exactly what I wanted him to be, he quickly blossomed into several colors and soon he was a completely different person, but then, so was I. I reeked of grayness and no radiance at all. If you made me stand in front of a mirror I wouldn’t recognize my own self. I was sad, lost, and all alone…

(To be continued…)


Should you be friends with your ex?

I finally got up after hitting snooze for the hundredth time. I had to check my phone like every other day to wake me up completely. And there it was, several likes, few comments, and a message from my ex on Instagram. My day was ruined already before it had even started.

I thought about it while brushing my teeth, taking a shower, dressing up, having my breakfast, I wondered about it some more on my commute, and then came the rage all at once- What the fuck he wants now that I don’t give a damn about him! I guess this is what happens when you have moved on, living your life, and enjoying your single hood, a guy from past drops in to check in if you’re still stupid the way you were before. And, you know, I am still that stupid because I replied. Don’t blame me, I was only curious to know what he had to say.

My mind was running like crazy, making hundreds of assumptions per minute- what if he has always loved me, or if he misses me, and wants to get back with me? Maybe he has realized his mistake and wants to apologize for being an asshole. OR, maybe, worst of them all, he wants to be “friends” with me. OMG! what if that is true? Is that even an option? What kind of a territory is that, being friends with your ex? I have never been there. Even thinking about being friends with him makes me hurl.

But, I’ve read that only matured and cool people can stay on good terms with their exes. I am mature and cool, a little, only if a little bit. And even if my relations have never been ended on good terms (My all kind of relationships ended with one yelling in rage and other one crying furiously) doesn’t mean I cannot be friends with one, I can do that, at least that’s what I imagined.

And that was the reason why I replied to him. And guess what, the conversation ended with him calling me a failure, with a fake attitude and I ended up blocking him yet again. Well, I am not really cool, I’ll accept that. Anyway, I do not understand this thing about being friends with your ex. Why you need to be with a person who has done you wrong or was bad to you in some way? It doesn’t make sense to me. Why you want to keep a person in your life who left you for someone/something else? Yeah, forgive them and move on with your life, but why misuse your time? All this is beyond me. I believe this is something extroverts came up with because let us face it, they always need little more people to be their friends, even their exes.

So, yeah I can’t be friends with my ex and if that makes me immature, so be it. Anyway, shouldn’t we focus on more important issues like which series to binge watch next on Netflix, rather than wasting our time on someone we have already moved on from?


Love as I know it – 2

I cried and you looked the other side.
I stuttered, tried to put my words in a line, but you didn’t listen.
I told you I’ll rather die, and you said you didn’t mind.
I struggled with my broken heart, and all you wanted was to be forgiven.
I asked you to stay for a little while, but you were getting too late for your ride.
All I wanted was for us to be fine, but you didn’t want to be mine.
There I stood alone in the rain, and you left again, just like every damn time.

People, anxiety and I

I have anxiety and I was suffering from depression for some amount of time. There, I said it. Yes, I am acknowledging this new information about me on the internet, where I am the coolest person. Its a part of who I am and I am done hiding it.

Living with anxiety is already such a huge struggle and one of the worst parts of it is the people. Whenever I tell someone about my anxiety I get the same kind of responses all the time and I wish I could reply them back with these lines:

  1. Person: but you don’t have to be so afraid all the time, you know.
    Me: I guess my brain doesn’t know this.
  2. Person: you have anxiety because you think you have anxiety.
    Me: wow you’re a genius but my brain is stupid.
  3. Person: don’t blame your crying on anxiety, you’re just a drama queen.
    Me: If I really was one, you had been exiled by now.
  4. Person: are you sure you’re getting an anxiety attack? You probably might be only over thinking?
    Me: If overthinking feels like you’re dying then you’re right, I’m over thinking. Don’t mind me wailing in that dark corner.
  5. Person: you just need to learn how to chill rather than taking pills.
    Me: umm.. those are chill pills.
  6. Person: you know some people have it worse than you.
    Me: so I should be happy? But then there are people who have it much better than me. I’ll just take my anxiety.
  7. Person: it’s all in your head
    Me: you’re right! it’s my brain, and it’s in my head.

Ps: Anxiety and depression aren’t laughing matter. If anyone close to you is suffering from them, make sure all you do is listen, even though you can’t understand.



I was a dreamer.

I was a lonely kid almost all my childhood. I know what it is like to be a loner. I kept feeling neglected, replaced, and lonely with every fight at home. Whenever something went wrong, I would run away somewhere or start looking at the wall and dream things I wish would happen to me and put an end to my misery.

As a child, I heard and read too many fairy tales, which had this damsel in distress and a prince, who would always come and save her. And that’s exactly what I wanted- to be saved from all my life’s problems and also, from myself.

Those dreams happened to be my getaway from the real world I was living in. They gave me hope, someday, someone might come along, make me feel better about myself, about my life and every damn thing. Unfortunately, that never really did happen. In reality, every guy I met was full of himself, just like me. Soon I was tired, resentful, and hopeless.

It took me several months of therapy to understand and accept the fact that nobody is going to save me, I have to do it on my own. I learned that I am not some damsel in distress, and no guy is a prince and that those are some stupid ideas girls have been fed from childhood by society, media, and almost by everyone.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I gave up dreaming completely, but now I know the fine line between unrealistic and realistic dreaming. And, I know you wouldn’t disagree when I say that reality is somewhat better than dreaming.




Everyone on Instagram has been posting their #2017bestnine collages as the year is coming to an end. So I tried it for myself and the result was this-


It made me go- “What the actual fuck!”. I mean, the whole year I went places, drew so many drawings, shoot so many pictures, gone through thousands of emotions, had life-changing events but my best of nine moments are my own selfies which have most of the likes. So, with my never-ending struggle to prove that I’m more than a pretty face, I came up with a self-made list of #2017bestnine. I don’t want a software to decide what these nine pictures should be, no matter how many likes each picture has.

#9 When this butterfly let me take its picture and it turned out to be a very cool wallpaper.
#8. When I polished my editing style this year.
#7. When I was at the right place and at the right time and captured this moment along with the emotions.
#6. That time when I could put on paper what its like to deal with anxiety and accept that it really is all in my head.
#5. That moment when I finally did accept defeat and created this journal to initiate my self-recovery.
#4. When I finally realized who I have been and who I actually am.
#3. When I started finding beauty in every little simple thing and it changed my whole perspective.
#2. When I came back to life and there was a whole new world out there, just waiting for me.
#1. When I created this simple art piece that helped me in every moment of my life and made me realize that it’s completely fine not being enough.