Will someone ever understand me?
As simple as it sounds, the word ‘understanding’ is an uncanny term. To expect understanding from others is like a screaming paradox that uninvitingly and inevitably gives its RSVP. Definition of understanding varies from person to person. While some term ‘compatibility’ as basic understanding, others think understanding as a means to gain affirmation. Both interpretations sound alike but in fact very much like bibliophile and bibliomaniac. It gets peculiar as we proceed.
Why in this world do we need affirmation?
It’s profoundly queer to ask for acceptance. Do we really need ‘approval’ for our existence? We’re not illegal. Illegal things require approval. Drugs require consent. We don’t need to prove why we should be accepted. Giving heed to such a peculiarity is equivalent to symbolising yourselves as illegitimate. You have a birth certificate. You’re a registered citizen of a country and you have a house to live. You go to school/college/ work. You’re normal. Believe me, you’re not a felon.
Why don’t people fulfil our expectation?
Major Irony Alert. Expectations being fulfilled is, I believe, one of those rare miraculous occurring in our lives. When people get it, they find the solace hard to digest. Just when they are faintly ready to accept it, they change the course the things by doing deeds to blindly adhere to the balance of sad and happy. And when the ruination has been already done, they crave for it. Dear fellow beings of earth, stop expecting. It’s purely a hypothesis. The permanency of the damage expectations leave behind needs no explanation. It’s one of the most obvious and self-explanatory dictum on this planet.
People around me crave for being accepted. Girlfriends incessantly complain about their boyfriends not understanding them and vice versa. Parents lament over the ignorance their children. Children whine about the gap between them and their parents. People spend humungous cash to buy endurance. The reasons for such acts, I don’t reckon.
There’s an old African belief that hovers around the truth of being singularities. I find it deeply humbling. Why ask for plurality when the sole purpose for our creation was to be singular and fulfilling.  
The purpose for this entry is to some extent not defined to what I believe. It is not meant to mould you. It is meant to be analysed by you. Critique it. Make your own moulds. It’s just what the existing needs.

1) I learnt that if life gives you lemons, then it is probably because it doesn’t want your life to be too diabetic. Thanks Lyf, Much Love.
2) It is good to be curious. Actually being curious is all you need to gain knowledge of any kind (quite literally, hah)
3) Thai food will never be good. Ever.
4) Ghaziabad is in Uttar Pradesh, who knew.
5) Alternative music is the one for me.
6) Benedict Cumberbatch will never be mine. I will have to die alone.
7) Fireflies can also be called ‘insects with a glowing tutu’ in Pritika World.
8) American Pie is actually not a movie on pies (yes, I am innocent child still)
9) Never settle for samosa, if you have pizza or sandwich.
10) Hippies are friendly people.
11) It is okay to love yourself before anyone else.
12) The dream for a world tour is 90% unrealistic unless you are offspring of Gates, Tata or billionaire daddies.
13) Google has 3 birthdays.
14) Wearing rings is the shizz and after some time, you’ll feel naked without them.
15) Making 11:11 wish works 46% of the times (yea, I calculated)
16) You feel alone even at a time when you’re messaging 10 people together. That is how social life is.
17) 18 is gonna come soon and the thought of being ‘legal’ makes you crazily excited as ****.

with tiny hands and innocent eyes
young souls live away from worldly lies
they are the dawn of the day
the shine of the night
they have the wings of a bird
to fly
to soar up high
for conquering heights they are made
not for making those heights
for surpassing walls they are made
not for making those walls
they are to live their life
not make things for others to live
each child has within him a piece of god
that deserves respect and love
amidst the bondages of labor
poor creations of lord almighty suffer
wrongfully persuaded
it is painful to see them like this
for a child is supposed to play freely
not be played freely.

Exalted as it was, she couldn't help but stare at the sunlight that dramatically kissed the ocean waters; the majestic sky that boastfully displayed its vivid million hues; the perennial water that compassionately became home to a billion creatures; the vibrant fishes that danced and sang, jumped and swirled. The scene enraptured her mind. It was as if she had consumed a bottle of a 1964 scotch. It was as if she was given a psychedelic drug to catch a glimpse of an aesthetically blissful scene.
Entangled in the cobweb of tranquil ephemera, she opened her arms to embrace the beauty she saw. The realisation she acquired and the one she hoped to acquire were like chalk and cheese. There, at that moment, she woke up with drool on her face and pillow in her arms. The alarm clock beeped '6AM', and the magical world she was in, bid adieu to her.

I was the light,
You were the night;
I was the water,
You were the fire.
I was your fantasy,
You, my reality.
Your soul stuck with alternative and rock,
While mine with Indie and pop;
Your eyes fixed on brutal tragedies,
While mine on romantic comedies.
Your world had me in it,
But my world was you.
It was right for you to leave,
It wasn’t meant to be.
Sometimes it is just hard to think,
About all the days we spent together;
All the memories sink in,
Like a strong dose of inflicting pain.
I’m glad you’re gone,
Gone with all your pretty and petty.

This moment is confusing
Got no words for the endless things that I have to say
No will for many things I have to do
I feel timelessness
I want to talk to you,
But fidelity to my sky-high pride binds me
The mood is gloomy
The breeze is rushing away
The light is fading away
Oblivion is creeping in well
Killing the gravity of care
Searching for my parachute, I wander
Bearing the peaceful mocking of life
Even when I can’t take it anymore,
The trillion friends within me don’t give up
Maybe I’m a mess,
A candle with two burning ends,
But isn’t that the most beautiful sight of all?

Certain moments leave us in the room of curiosity where the existing tends to take snail's pace. The clock abandons its race. It looks as if time took a nap. And in such gravity, our body reacts in the most oblivious of ways. It is almost analogous to a body in space. Involuntary and Indecisive in its movements. While we want to say a million things, our gut takes over by muting us. All the feelings that revolve around a hundred thousand thoughts come out in form of a salt water composition. Metaphorically, our eyes do the talk by reflecting a whole gush of diverse sentiments.
The strangest  part enters the scene like a temporary protagonist when there comes a choice between happiness or sadness. If we choose the former, there is no way we can avoid the latter. It takes us a while to process the fact that these two emotions are each other's Ying and Yang. They never come alone.
All this befuddlement lands us into a directionless vehicle.
To satisfy oneself is the greatest accomplishment. In a state like this, we never forgo this belief. Our soul tries to console our mind repeatedly. It tries to salvage us from the impossible questions of our own. Such invisible restrictive force is met with either frustration or fascination. There is no chain that binds us, yet we feel grounded. We feel over-ready to imagine but our minds capture us in the box of boggle. Time has such manipulation on us that we're hypnotised to feel it's power. Not in aspects where it proves its presence but in aspects where it threatens us with its nothingness.
Such junctures of timelessness are highly uncertain in their permanency. They exist and then one moment cease to do so. And when they denounce, we come back to our lives of consciousness and mortality.

what is 'why'?
perhaps a question,
perhaps a belief,
or simply a confusion.
how is 'why'?
maybe its frustrating,
maybe doubtful,
or simply perceptive.
where is 'why'?
its in you,
its in me,
in simply everything we see.
why is 'why'?
because it errs,
because it resonates,
or simply because its human.