We Dream, We Dream And We Die Between The Melancholy And Ecstasy We Call Life, Do We Live For Once? Or

Lovely , just lovely !!

Only one look...

Your smile is precious Your scent is vicious Only one look at you makes me imagine all the fictions

Every time you come around it’s like you are a breeze And when you go away feels like a storm woke up from ease

When you bowl the overs and knock them all down I feel like you are the only one playing on the ground

Just one look at you makes me daydream Only one look that makes you the soul of the team…

Life is short, live everyday....

That's just what everyone might say.

But life,

It's BIG.

It's LONG.

Oh heck, it's WIDE!

Let no one tell you otherwise.

Your first 20yrs may seem like the assurance of a "happily ever after" if done correctly.

But there is no correct way.

Everyday, may seem like you are not doing anything worth, life is so short.

But it's not.

Take your time.

Do things you love and do something for your loved ones.

Yes, there is a lot of time for most of us,

But remember , there is no time to waste.

Yes life's unpredictable.

And that is another reason for you ,to do you, everyday, step by step.

No, long life isn't assured, but if we make ourselves miserable thinking our life will be better if we do a 1000 things a day, we are still wasting it

No one will live our life.

We will.

Embrace each day you get, cuz many don't get a next day.

Live like you have to live forever.

Speed things up for your excitement, not because your life will be ruined if you don't.

You. Have. Time.

A lot. Or. A little.

You. Have. Control.

Live time. It's not to waste.

-mauli

" Adversity is the Mother of all things Beautiful... For its only when the Moon sets, a new dawn arrives. "

(og)

Is it your poetic gaze, those damn poetic eyes, or just my poetic heart, the very reason why every part of you each way you exist, is the most beautfiul possession that i can ever call mine....

-mauli ♡

You say you wanna be pretty,

so the world would love you ,

so the eyes would admire you,

so the lips would discuss you.

But , my dear,

don't ever forget,

love of this world has become cruel.

You'll be a pretty little flower,

just to make them happy,

and all they'll do is

stare, pluck, smell and throw.

So honey,

better be a Venus flytrap,

beautiful in its own,

but nobody ever can

stare,

pluck,

smell,

and throw.

Sure they won't like you,

but trust me, it's better than

being left alone to wilt,

only because they thought

you were the prettiest flower

in the garden...

Heyy!!🌼

✨🧡🌙SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨🧡

Love you sm! Forwarding this for sure! <3 <3

Sometimes the scenarios i make up in my head amaze me.

They are so beautiul, so dreamy, so perfect, so much *needed*, it makes my heart ache from the thought that they can never come true, not ever in the exact same dreamy manner as they do in my mind. I would never find that perrffectt person and never will those deliberate- indeliberate touches and talks and gazes and moments happen...

It leaves me longing and hopeless, I guess my expectations from life , at moments, become too far-fetched.

The only way out, to turn them into reality, is to-

write down the scenario,

develop a story that is actually comprehensible (paiinnnn),

write a novel,

knock doors of publishing houses,

get it published,

work to make it a bestseller,

become a filmwriter and director,

find a producer,

get external validation for script and find rest of the crew ;))

find the perfect music that goes with my fantasy,

find the handpicked perfect cast,

and make it into a adaptation movie.

(excuse the inaccuracy my process. i am not well acquainted with all this, at least not in this universe, but that is just how i imagine)

Then all my dreams *might* come true. Is it too much? or a bare neccesity for my dream to reality journey, i will never know i guess...

(this also totaly disrupts my path of pursuing STEM career, leaving another dilemma at my hand. Life just wouldnt stop being so *REAL*, now, would it ? :I Now my options are a) Reincarnation, b) discover multiverse and travel to the universe where i did write a novel and make a movie about it, by myself, and watch that.... arghh the things we do for the love of love )

this was just a thought, no self-emotions were hurt in this post (ok, maybe a few) (excruciating pain right in middle of heart, a major headache here and there.)

Lucky to have realized, that being Alone and being Lonely are indeed two different things. One doesn't bother you and other makes you miserable...

The Artist

What are we here for

If not

To become the spectators 

Of the cosmic artwork

Unfolding before our eyes

The cosmic artwork

Of a blue sky

With rose strokes across

As the sun's about to die

Over the far horizon

Only to be born again

The next present

With a new light

The cosmic artwork

Of the birds singing, 

On birth of light 

Each sunrise, of the clouds

Swaying and changing hues

The cosmic artwork

Of each little life itself

The chaos seemingly random

Binding us all with one life

Of the artist itself.

The cosmic artwork

That created nature,

The mother herself

For she's the artist of 

the cosmic art,

Her eyes glittered in awe

Of her own self.

.

.

"He's a book that doesnt find itself in the front showcase of the bookstore, not in the popular aisles, no. It's the one you'll stumble upon when least expected, it lurks in the corners which the common reader seldom visits. Or it might tumble on you when you're not looking, catching you by your breathe, making you fall hard, making you fall fast.

But when it's is finally found, I stop my brain before it's filled with thoughts on the cover, for a good book can't be judged that way, it's common knowledge. 

I run my fingers through unintended pages , reading the random excerpts word by word. Page by page, phrase by phrase, the book makes me want to stay. It makes me want to read it patiently, not possibly all at once, for its just not possible. It's pages over pages of just art, waiting in the dark to be perceived.

It takes away your breath with each sentence, compelling you to comprehend the obvious beauty and beyond all, the meaning, the purpose and the pain.

Even if one manages to reach the last word, he's the book that would never suffices you in just one reading. So, I read it over and over and over again, never having enough. The simple complexities, the rhymes and rythmes, the perfect  imperfections , the utter beauty and the guarded mysteries that leave me hanging each time, wanting more.

In quest of learning all of him, one can live a life, content, forever; for one will be loving the outcast charm that's this book, forever."

-mauli