Calculating Insanity

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 34; the thirty-fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is “Of-Course, I’m insane”

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I don’t know how to calculate associations,
I don’t know how to manipulate relations,
I don’t know how to encash emotions,
I don’t know how to misuse informations,

I don’t know how to backstab my friends,
I don’t know how to pace up with the latest trends,
I don’t believe in the theory of tit for tat,
I don’t know how to flaunt and overact,

I don’t know how to bite utterly- butterly,
I don’t know how to prey nimbly,
I don’t know how not to be me myself and I,
I don’t know how to artificially smile or cry ,
of course, I’m insane, I don’t know how to be a good dealer in life ..

Nothing I could do but to be silent because
what I know is, that silence is a  great healer in life ..
But of course, I’m insane, I don’t know how to be a good dealer in life…

P.S   I know it’s really an immature crude poetry..landed down
yesterday,with a high fever after lots of travelling..I just didn’t want to break the continuity..

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: XX

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

AN UNTOLD STORY

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 32; the thirty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is ‘An Untold Story’

SHORT STORY          

Note : This story is a work of PURE FICTION and any resemblance in name, place etc. to any person is purely coincidental.  

Enbosoming an entirely different world in me , multifarious creatures are living here as natives or tenants, holding a muster of precious artifacts , remnants of history , souvenirs of passion, snippets of altercations; endorsing legion of emotions , embracing umpteen turbulent hearts and minds , eyewitnessing myriad untold stories of the daily rhythms and on and on ….. And you know what?? …my expressions could not be more than either taking agile leaps , getting wilder sometimes or being calm, swift and caressing…. Anyone coming to my shore consider me as one of the most plausible friends to share even their secret of secrets….
Aah!! See there is someone sitting on that rock candy by my side ….. Oh!! I know, she is Aanya. She comes here often..

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Swollen red eyes , tears trickling down her cheeks relentlessly, her traumatic condition, all were unveiling the excruciating pain she was going through. The crests and troughs of the emotional storm were way too high …… She was wailing and on a spur of the moment the volcano inside her erupted. I could hear her scream as she was saying~ Why me ? Why always me ? Whether the lanes chosen by me or chosen by life for me why they always have a dead end and I have to come back all the way and start from the scratch again…. Why it always happens with me ?She sobbed and cried and cursed herself..

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I was very calm at that moment caressing her feet again and again so that she may feel lighter.. What more could I have been able to do ?? Sometimes I really do feel crippled when I am unable to soothe someone’s heart…I was in despair and it was chilling me to the core until I heard a very familiar chirpy voice ..

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Yippee!! I bounced with glee and leaped happily….She is here !!..Sakhi , a sweet little ebullient girl ,eight or nine years old was playing with her mother .They were a little far away from Aanya…I dedicated all ears to her for a while …I could listen to her giggles ,clappings,naughty talks as she was enjoying making paper boats while asking her Mom to write something on each of them.After it was all done she took each paper boat in her hands gaped at the sky for a while as of she was saying something to God and then sailed them one by one on my waves ….I became a little wild in ecstasy and took the liberty to dance with her boats…

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Unfortunately one of her paper boats died ( it had to, after some time, Sakhi knew that) but fortunately it sailed all the way to Aanya before dying….
Aanya, for a jiffy, came out of her envelope of grief and exasperation when Sakhi’s paper boat touched her feet…She picked it up , there was a small flag tucked inside with something written on it. It took her a while to understand that word …It was “HOPE“.. While she was busy with it, she couldn’t realize that someone crept behind her …. They were Sakhi and her Mom..

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As soon as Aanya turned around, Sakhi tried grasping her boat .. She said she was sending a wish to God . This one word if missed could weaken her message…Aanya could not keep the curiosity to herself and asked her about it…
Sakhi passed a faint smile to her Mom…her Mom’s eyes were brimmed with tears ,she gasped and  told Aanya that Sakhi’s vision is blurring day by day and after sometime she will be completely blind .. Doctors Will not be able to do anything until she matures to the age of 18 …She comes here daily with me to send her prayers to God .Today she wrote “Thank You God for a beautiful day, hope to see more colors tomorrow ” .The boat with the word ” HOPE ” jaunted towards you along with the current ….
Aanya was stunned and dumbstruck. The enthusiasm , the positive vision towards life of Sakhi at this tender age pricked Aanya’s enshroud of grief and  slowly it withered away .. Aanya was in a whole new avatar now…She saluted Sakhi who left with her paper boat written “HOPE” on it….

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Mischief hovered on my waves as I drifted towards Aanya to share that euphoric moment with her. I just rocked , rolled and fondled her legs again and again in exuberance ..The new confident, smiling Aanya also turned to move off to her place …
These untold stories are the precious gems of my everlasting treasure and I feel honored to share one such gem with you ..
This Untold story has turned to be a Told story now…

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: NONE, Participation Count: 02

Me ,Myself n I

octave of emotions ,

crumbled me n my creations..

it was a mystical touch,

was a brash single impression,

shortcut to tranquility seems wiser,

but was out of the blue,

 to disappear in the oblivion……

uneasy to hold….

Intense instincts of

Me myself n I knocked the nerves,

the vision of the soul is cleared ,

it wanna draw towards the blue,

wanna draw towards the ocean …