Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul


Endless Scribbling

Weaving tales and scrawling poems just never ends.

On bravery and love: The brave, the braver, and the bravest

The brave

She’s the kind of brave who would battle the raging waves and fight the cruel storm just to keep your relationship. For you she’ll fight against all odds. She’s the kind of brave who remembers. She’ll remember how she walked into love with you, with eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way, even when you’ve already given up. She’ll remember how she was once your sunshine and you were her moonlight. She’s the kind of brave who would wait in the room when you slammed that door close, hoping you’d come back in a heartbeat. Continue reading “On bravery and love: The brave, the braver, and the bravest”

Kite Runners Still

kite 4
Vector image source:

We were kids who looked at our dad with amazement as he makes our very own kite. We were kids with genuine smile as we hold on to the string preparing for it to fly. We were kids with loud laughter as we run in strong winds watching our kites glide in the sky. That’s the thing, we were once kids robbed of our innocence and now trying to live our lives.

Still I believe we have never lost our kites. We just failed to see that it, too, has been changed through time. As grown-ups we don’t fly colorful kites, we fly kites that we often call life. Life is like flying a kite. We wait for just the right conditions to pursue our life-long dreams and desires. We run into tremendous winds that throw us off the course and into the ground. There are times of no wind at all, leaving us hopeless and unable to fly. We enjoyed several joy rides. We soared right, left, up, and down. We’ve had sharp nose dives. We waited long.

What’s great to know is that as long as we’re living, flying is an option. It’s all a matter of choice. We can let go of the strings– live in fear and defeat. Or we can pick up our kites, throw it into the air and try again—live in hope and wonder. Just like when we were kite runners.

Lenten contemplations

Starry Night - Vincent Van Gogh (Source: Google)
Starry Night – Vincent Van Gogh (Source:

“We all want to be certain, we all want proof, but the kind of proof we tend to want-scientifically or philosophically demonstrable proof that would silence all doubts once and for all-would not in the long run, I think, answer the fearful depths of our need at all. For what we need to know, of course, is not just that God exists, not just that beyond the steely brightness of the stars there is a cosmic intelligence of some kind that keeps the whole show going, but that there is a God right here in the thick of our day-by-day lives who may not be writing messages about himself in the stars but who in one way or another is trying to get messages through our blindness as we move around down here knee-deep in the fragrant muck and misery and marvel of the world. It is not objective proof of God’s existence that we want but, whether we use religious language for it or not, the experience of God’s presence. That is the miracle that we are really after. And that is also, I think, the miracle that we really get.”

This has always been one of my favorite quotations from renowned author / storyteller Frederick Buechner. For such a powerful message crafted to embody a huge amount of truth not just to non-believers but to devotees alike, I can’t even start to amplify. There is one simple truth, in my point of view, though that I have always tried to live by day by day. That in the midst of happiness, confusion, fear, and emptiness, along with everything that happens in between, God is always with us, within us. That in the midst of the unending battle between science and faith, between the word of God and science theories, there is something that goes beyond reason. That at the end of the day if we really try to let go of everything and just stare at the stars, look deeper into our feelings, maybe just maybe, we’ll experience the miracle we’ve always wanted. Not the miracle that we see or touch but something that we feel within us. A feeling that would makes us smile at the starry night for a reason that goes beyond words and paragraphs. A feeling that would make the silence seems so loud.

God bless you!

It takes six men before you meet your lucky 7—or not

Photo credits: Dada

If anyone has watched the movie, Lucky 7, where control-freak Amy sticks to her detailed timeline as a guideline in all walks of life including love, this one is about the same.

We are all hopeless romantic. We long for love and affection. We desire to feel the magic it brings. We hold on to our faith of finding true love. Some people get lucky, some work their ass off in search of ‘The One’, and some just run out of kismet. Time and experience may have changed our idea about love. Some gave up with their awfully broken-into-pieces heart whilst some stood up from the fall, wiping the bruises and forgetting the scars, to once again hope. Hope that someday, somewhere, somehow they might just get their luck.

Continue reading “It takes six men before you meet your lucky 7—or not”

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