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Saturday, 23 July 2016

Mornings and Nights!



I like it when your eyes keep their firm gaze at me. I know you see in me the inspiration that I see in you, I know we are happy in each other’s company. But then we stop expressing the ingenuity of the feelings we have for each other. You don’t reply to my letters, just the manner I don’t respond to the letters which many school boys and girls send me, telling me that they liked my last novel. I think I deserve it for being so rude and singing so highly of my talent. But you know what, I don’t care whether they still like me or start disliking me. I never wrote to make them please, if all I wanted anything, then it was to earn the tag of a writer. I wanted to tell you that I was good for something in this life of mine. You know why? Because I care for you, I don’t like this nature of mine, but I cannot stop myself from liking you. 

I thought you would be proud of me too, the way you sing praises of people who inspire you.. here I don’t want you to sing praises of me, but just to know that I can make you feel how we felt when we met for the first time. I want you to relive those moments again and again. I am glad my writings can do that to you, and that is the greatest success for me. But then you don’t say anything. I am waiting for having a walk with you in the evening, or any time would be just perfect. 

So here I am still waiting for you to say few words. It has been months since I heard from you. I think you are hiding something from me, but then I am not that important to you ‘maybe’, but I will live with it. I will miss you and think of meeting you again, and if we don’t then I will write those moments again and again, the ones we spent gazing at each other for endless seconds. Every time I feel them, I feel complete, and I feel different set of sentiments, all coming and ending at a magical feeling of affection.

I will not say my heart cannot beat without you, since a school girl wrote to me in one of her letters that, heart is over-rated word, everyone talks of it, either of its breaking or feeling the blossom when someone special says the three words, “I love you”. So I am influenced by that girl. 

Considering that I read the letters of the school boys and girls, even though I don’t reply them; I feel you will read what I write too, I won’t expect a reply from you. I won’t change myself, and I know the world will never change for me too. I like this life that I lead in my moodiness, and wish you wonderful days. 

P.S. : I miss you sometimes, but am too egoist to send you letters again and again. Take care, girl. Praying for your happiness wherever you are! (caring for someone takes away logic from us, we just want to spend a lot of time, thinking of the one who is special.) 

Your friend,
a midnight writer~

––

Gagandeep Singh Vaid (@artistaddress)


Monday, 11 July 2016

I don't write to gain sympathy!

Writing for money, writing for causes you support, writing two-three lines to make yourself happy, where has the writer who wrote senseless articles gone? The long narrative posts saying anything and everything, where have they gone? The countless comma's, the without proof-read articles and stories, where have they gone? 

You miss those writings of yours? Do you?

What is more important for any person; his passion or sustenance? 
You can't drive your passion without firm ground where you stand!
For what if the world drifts beneath your feet and you drown.. what would passion do in this case?

Here I don't want to prove myself right or myself wrong, I just want to be myself for once. 

More than any writer or someone who pretends to be one- I am a human being. I am someone who even if he doesn't know how to write has a life. Yes life. Life as comes with the winds that pass, life that feels broken apart, only to be stronger the next moment. 

Life that I live in those scars on the faces of people whom I meet or cross by, life that is not given any sympathy, in the down-trodden. Everyday the life in me sees many other lives. I breathe, I fall silent, I pass, I click their pictures in my mental frame and sometimes through camera. I want to click the best pictures, for I also want my pictures to be shared on famous pages. I keep sending my articles to even those pages which don't give me credits, I send my stories to those pages who neglect them every time but I don't want to gain any sympathy from you for this. 

I like to write at the speed of my thoughts and not look behind what I wrote. I feel what flows is what will make me happy years later when I would look at it. I would carry the me I am right now, into tomorrow, day after and forever. I would be able to meet myself and yes my life!

I don't really know from where I started this writeup and I don't want to see. I don't want you to clap for me, you can clap or pass sighs I don't think much about it.

In the end I would like to say, I don't write for sympathy. I write for myself and life, my life! I share them thinking you might feel them, and if not, it is alright. I don't write to please you!
--
Gagandeep Singh Vaid