Faraaz Kazi

It was strange even after suffering from fate, a person in love would choose the same fate over his life.

Remember, someone, somewhere in some corner of this somewhat big world, is out there crying if you__e unhappy and is happy if you are! And you know who that someone is!

I eyed her like a thirsty traveler in the desert looks at a pail of water.

What was he? A mere human, stuck between the rungs of blended adolescence and nascent adulthood. What power did he command over the mysterious forces of love? Which sword could shatter the impenetrable armour of desire?

He took the last seat, as usual, a subtle reminder of what he was and what he had become.

He noticed that she threw away the crumbled bus ticket on the street as soon as she got down. He picked it up and put it in his pocket along with his own a memorabilia of their first date together, just like a strand of her hair he would find later on his shirt and the broken pen cap that she would go on to search in the laboratory and so many other such small things which he would collect.

Night is when the whispers of the past become the echoes of the present.

Not watching the path where his legs took him, he walked on because he knew he had to walk ahead, leaving his past behind.

Walking alone is not difficult but when we have walked a mile worth a thousand years with someone then coming back alone is what is difficult.

I inhale loneliness like it is the sweet smell of virgin earth conquered by fiery rain drops. Within me, I'm a thousand others.

He did not have anything on him except her thoughts, except the good times he had once shared and the bad times he so desperately wanted to forget.

That__ what I__ trying, sir_ getting my life.

Grief embraced him and welcomed him back, showering tears upon his arrival.

Have you ever lost someone close to you? Someone who is at the core of your universe, the hero of all your stories...when that happens, it isn__ just the loss of one life, it__ the loss of two lives - one who found another world, perhaps...and one who is left behind.

Fate, they say, fate- the clay that molds the events of your life, and it was the same fate that had thrown the stone of her heart on the building of his expectations. But then wasn't it his fault that he had constructed the building of glass? Hadn't he failed to cement the bricks of his love with trust and colour them with security? There was no insurance for broken hearts, no ointment for wounded souls and there would never be one, he knew.

If a man cries in front of you, it doesn't mean he's weak. It means that he trusts you enough to let his guard down.

All the good times evaporated like naphtha, the moment some air of misconceptions touched it.

My trust in you was like the small child__; who, when thrown in the air, expects to be caught, but you dropped me down, and not a moan escaped my lips.