Goodbyes and Hellos

I’ve been away from the blog for long and I plan to come back in “my style” in October, but this post is because of a certain someone who just made me realize how much I missed cuddling my blog baby. I haven’t named you coz I don’t know if you would love being named here but I am sure you must be reading it and smiling and see I told you I’m psychic :P and c’mon who doesn’t likes being the HIDDEN HERO :P Thank you Loads.

THE GUYS LIKES TO BE NAMED, GOOD THING TOO (because it makes me feel that I am no as insane as I truly am and people are actually alright telling others that Heyy, I know the fool :P, kidding I am awesome, no well, I don’t know, I think the bracketed part turned out to be longer than it should)

THANK YOU UTKARSH (Capslock intentional :P)

“What are you reading?”

“MY Journal”

“Why MY? You always called it our journal”

“Called, but I don’t call it so now”

“Why? Is there a problem?”

“I don’t know,”

“What’s wrong babe”

“I don’t write about you as much as I did. It gives me an unsettling feeling. I am scared; we are never going back to where we once stood.”

“Why did it sound like a goodbye?”

“I don’t know, but please stay. Stay when I push you away because so far, everyone I pushed away, leaves. Sometimes, when they leave, they take away the reason for my smile. You are more than the reason for my smile to me. You are MY SMILE. I don’t know what I will do if you too leave me away. Regardless of how many goodbye notes I’ve written, there’s something about you that makes me STAY and every night I hope, you think the same.”

“Now, did this sound like a hello?”

“You know, you make me laugh when all I want to do is curl up and cry and ruin my eyes so bad that I turn blind.”

“Aw, why would you do that. Look at us, we are together. I’ve you, you’ve me; what is amiss?”

“I do not know.”

“Is this your new favorite word?”

“Don’t leave me please. I will write you a goodbye note, but remember every goodbye is another hello. Please turn my goodbyes to hello. Every time, I write an end, meet me again; start a new chapter and let us waltz to the same tune, once more.”


“Say promise”

“Promise. Promise. Promise.”

“You do realize that you’ve promised me that your promise to me is a promise you cannot break.”


“I love you.”

“I love you too”

“I love goodbyes. Do you know why?”

“Yes, because every time you write one, we end up saying I love you.”

“I love you again.”

“I think, I do so too.”

“Are you angry?”

“Why would I be?”

“I and my mood swings.”

“I will bear because you are my right in the world of….”

And then she woke up to an empty room, a vacant heart and a heart that hurt from too many memories. It was time she should stop writing on goodbyes and hello because sometimes, you just need to turn the damn page.

In another world, someone else woke up unaware that someone, somewhere was thinking of him.

Love, sometimes, is the biggest tragedy in itself but it still makes you smile, even in your nightmares.

Who knows, there may be some chapters still to be written.

P.S. I will probably write a sequel to this because I LOVE HAPPY ENDINGS.

P.P.S. I got muddled with the font coloring.. Pls bear :P

some why's have no replies

The Second Life || A Tryst With Tales

Life is not meant to be lived just once because there are stories that die to live again.
Sometimes, things fall apart and the mountain of hope crumbles leaving you in shackles of nothingness as you fall in a bottomless pit that drowns you in a tear of regrets. However, when the night can’t get any darker, the dawn begins in form of
The second life
Sometimes, it is the second chances that tells the tale that started before the story truly began.

I am a part of an anthology called The Second Life which is available on pre-orders.


It is a Collection of 25 life inspiring stories and I can’t wait to be a part of this journey and witness the change myself.
Amidst a flurry of so many depressing thoughts, I wish to hold on to hope and learn of all those stories where people didn’t give up even when they thought that their story was over; when people grasped on to the second chance and made sure that their story ended the way they wanted it to.

I strongly resonate with the line, “What are we but stories” and I can’t wait to live, love and feel the stories that shall quench my thirst to see how a second chance sometimes defines the epilogue which we always wanted to read.

My story in this anthology is particularly close to me. Sometimes, we don’t just write things down, we walk down a lane, clutching the moments, sewing them in your arms; afraid they will leave you one day. By etching them in words, you know that one fine day, 25 years down the line when you are on divergent tracks, there is one book in the shelf which will still remind someone of your mark in their life because not all stories end with a happy smile and yet they splatter happiness around.

Read the story of a forgotten, who was remembered. In my story, I have tried etching the tale of an unfulfilled love story that never completes and yet never fails. Not every love ends in marriage and not every love ends with a breakup. Some people are more than another date; some relation are more than just love; sometimes a snowflake lands upon a rose and calls it a forever home even when they were meant for their own divergent Destiny because second life and second chances sometimes make the most wonderful tale.

I would love to hear what any of you have to say on this upcoming anthology.

Book available on pre-orders here:

Get more details by joining the official FB page: HERE

Those who are interested in buying the book can also participate in the FB event and win exciting gifts.

Happy Reading.

 the second life

P.S. I am on a blog break but I love my blog baby and I miss all you peeps. Some of you, I am connected with. Feel free to drop me an email anytime because it’s the people that make a blog; the virtual home.

Lots of love,

Your Shade.

I will be back because there’s only so much time till we can stay away from the ones we love dearly.

My Half Story


An old post, the story a little ahead, and the end hasn’t end yet, the feelings remain :) :)

Originally posted on A Shade Of Pen:

Sometimes, I ponder upon the uncertainty of life. what would happen if someday, it JUST ENDS.. there’s no warning.. No omens, no soothsayer asking me to beware of something and right like that in a flash.. it all ENDS…My story will remain incomplete.. it will end as a half story..

There are so many things I want to tell to people. There are things I wish to do.. There are secrets I want to show.. How will all of that happen? Who will finish my story? I will end up as the INCOMPLETE tale. So, this is the post where I will try to be as honest as possible.. No, there are things I WILL NOT say.. I can’t.. but I will TRY

When I’m not here,

When I am gone

When I’ve drifted to a faraway land

I want you to tell my Dad

I ALWAYS loved him


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Life From The Eyes Of A Kashmiri- The First Leg


Once upon a time, I used to interview :lol:

Originally posted on A Shade Of Pen:

life from the eyes of a kashmiri

As I had promised you in my prologue for life from the eyes of a
kashmiri, I would be interviewing a guy from kashmir who would bare
his tale, the mission has begun…welcome all to the first leg of LIFE

I had a little change of plans because I got a better prospect.
Somebody had told that the world is small and it truly is….because
just like that on my blog post..I found a potential
interviewee…before iIdivulge further details, a little background
for those who are unaware of the tryst of kashmir

During  the independence, Kashmir was one of the worst sufferers
because it got split between two nations..India and Pakistan…
I have not been to either lands and yet I am cent percent sure that
there is no difference between the Indian kashmir and the Pakistani
kashmir except for the fact…

View original 920 more words

Flawed Perfection

She looked at the mirror

Bit her lower lips

Pushed back her hair

That looked a mess

She examined closer

Her brows had grown

Her hands were not shaved

Her dress a size too big

She looked again and sighed

If beauty is a fancy face

How she would love to not be pretty

If she was meant to find her love

If her life is meant to be happy

Someone will look at her and

Not see the flaws

Or see the flaws and still

Find them flawless


perfect people do not a story make

Imperfections make stories perfect

The Epilogue

“Why are you so quiet??”

“I don’t know.”

“I miss the sound of your smile”

“But, you’ve never heard me speak.”

“That doesn’t matters. I can tell you how it is.”


“Just like mine.”

“But, I’ve never heard you speak, let alone laugh”

“Exactly, that’s my point”

“Sometimes, I don’t get you, Am I dumb or are you over-smart?”

“I am the part of you, you’re scared to admit exists. You’ve not met me, seen me, heard me, but think of it as how we’re connected in another space. I can bet, this isn’t our  first interaction. We’ve shared smiles, tears, laughs and even cries in another lifetime. This life is the epilogue of the story we barely finished last time.”

“so, we are going to have a happy end, this time?”

“I wish darling, but sadly, you, dear seem to have read just one segment of romance; there are stories that are so romantic that you fall in love with them but the epilogues, it can break a heart. The only way to know how our epilogue would be is to know the story we’ve already lived”

“You know everything, You must know that?”

“I think we lived a mysterious love story with a tragic epilogue, but you know what?”

“yes, I know”


“We’ll have a sequel”


“Another lifetime”

“Another lifetime” 

the truth

The Voice Of My Lullaby

In the lingering thoughts

In a desolate mind

In the late nights

Of the conversations with the dark sky

In the hidden tears

Beneath the loud smiles

She wonders

If the stars burn to shine

Can pain take away pain?

Can smiles bring smiles?

We need to be our own lullaby

Because, the stars don’t have their own light

They echo your own shine

Sing yourself to sleep

Until one day,

You will find the voice

That shall bring you peace

And no more, will the empty sky


Because you may learn

About your journey of life

But, remember, you must hold

On to your own shine

Or else, you will fade away


The deafening noise of





Sing your own lullaby

And let the symphony 

Give the melody

That kisses your eyes

And says, “Good Night”