Poetic Outlook

Remember the times when we had to walk for kilometres on end from our homes just to buy a piece of Cigarette? Cigarette, to us Indians, is not an addiction but an emotion worth rupees fifteen. It is something we do not take lightly, both metaphorically and literally. The way we smoke our cigarettes speaks volumes about our character. Somebody takes it discreetly, while some love to boast it by blowing out circles. The reason we love Cigarettes is not because of how cool it makes us look. Trust me, it doesn't. It makes us look like criminals, suicidal, and very much uncool infront of non-smokers. But then again, we do not smoke it to make others feel like that. We smoke in groups. Be it any group - Friends, Cousins, Gangs. Indians make billions of plans to hang out just so they can smoke together in unity. It has the power to bring people closer in a way, only smokers know and feel. The sudden rush of excitement when our friends reveal they smoke too, and we celebrate that moment...

There are times in your life when you look back. You look back upon the days gone by, but just the recent memories. Memories which affect you the most right now, memories which might not affect you after some days, months, or years. So why do we choose to look back at only those memories? Is that our limit? No. Our own presence right at this moment is sown by those millions of memories right from our birth. Look back on those memories, be it sad or happy. The person you are now, is because of what you have struggled through, peacefully or painfully. Going down memory lane, you might just come across instances which might have directly or indirectly led to the pain that is affecting you now. You might think, "Wish I hadn't done that at that point in time, then all my struggle right now would be gone." I request you all, and myself to never let this bother you. If you hadn't taken the step then, maybe your life would have gone on a different track. But then what? Do yo...

At times, you need those who taught you to abuse, Those who fought, And those who loved even more. Idiots who did not miss a chance To give you a bashing, And saviours who did not hesitate once To protect you from bashing They, who always scolded when wrong, But never appreciated when right. Those monkeys who Jumped at the sight of "home food". With whom, waking till 4am Was a leisure. Those who shared that Small piece of cigarette. Stubborn assholes who Never wish to leave your Heart. Sometimes, all you need Are your Hostel Friends, Who became your brothers. -@roy.ban

"Time heals everything", they say. They have been saying this for a long time now. And for a long time, you have been rejecting this. How can time heal everything? How can it do so when it was the one to bring upon the pain? The disaster, the chaos, the heartbreaks, and everything that is keeping you down? Since childhood, You blamed Time for the dread it brought you. You resented it for being so cruel to you. You thought that all Time ever gave you was insufferable pain. But did you blame Time for bringing upon the good times? No. And you know why? Because you were too busy enjoying. So much so, you forgot to Thank Time. And maybe that is why it brought upon the hard times? Maybe not, because as soon as you're in trouble, you hope that time will heal everything. Hypocrite, aren't you? Ironically, it listens to you. It brings upon the good times faster than the bad ones. Time brings you the peace after the disaster. It brings you to someone better after...

I see myself caged in a room, A mildly dark, cold room. A glimpse of the evening sky through a small broken window, Saffron with broken white lines. There is a Cigarette on my Lips. I inhale the smoke, And absorb it in my Veins and Soul. The warmth provides comfort in dark times. As I exhale, the smoke rises, Escaping through the window, Leaving me cold again. Now, the Cigarette expires, And with it, my soul. -@roy.ban

Hello there Uncle and Aunty. Hope you're well. The relation I share with your son is not unknown to you. Yes, I love him. And I can say, with my utmost trust, that he loves me too. You had told me before not to pursue your son because of problems that "can't be spoken of". I know there are other better suitors, and it is also true that I can never match your son's calibre. That is confirmed. I don't have money, but I have a dream. A dream where your son belongs in the centre. I want to give him all the happiness he deserves. You say the society won't accept our love, but that's okay. It is your acceptance we need to kickstart a beautiful life. I promise to stand before him during the 4th circle around the fire, and henceforth, the life ahead of us. I promise to love him dearly, and help him grow. I promise to love you as I love my own parents. So, I would like to ask for his hand, not with curses but with blessings from you both. And I hope one day yo...