I Think We’re Mistaken: “If you love somebody, let them go”

I think we have it all wrong. Yes, we do. I think we have it all wrong when we say “if you love somebody, let them go”. If we say that, it seems a lot like we’re doing them a favour, or the “letting go” part, is for them. But is that really true? Shouldn’t it be more along the “if you love somebody, and they don’t love you like you’d like them to, leave, walk away”.

Are the two the same, though? Is letting go of somebody the same as leaving? I think not. I think letting go involves freeing the other person, allowing them to walk away from you while you’re (in most probability) stuck in the same place you were before. Think about it, if you do let somebody go, what about you? Are you supposed to wait for them to get back? Or are you supposed to ignore all that you’re feeling and pretend to heal? I can’t get myself to understand why all these love songs talk about letting people go, and waiting for them to get back to you (which apparently they will, if it was meant to be), but why do we have to let go in the first place? Why can’t people just stay, if they had to, if they were meant to be?

Leaving, sounds more like something I’d do, now. Leaving, because there’s nothing that’s making me stay. Nothing, that’s saying things are going to be better. Leaving because I know I’ve tried everything. Moreover, leaving makes me feel better. And that’s all that matters, in this moment, right now.

But, do people really come back once they’ve decided to leave? Well, I’m still to figure that one out. Is this is permanent decision, or a whimsical one? Time, and only time can tell me that.

So I’ve decided to give time, some time.


If You Love Someone, Truly.

On The Verge Of Extinction

It was just another day, in my 15-day-old life. I used my prehensile lip to grasp grass stems, bite off the top, and eat the grass. The sun went down, as I wandered, alone. I enjoy my solitude. I like talking to myself, and bleating at the trees, who reply to me with the rumbling sound of their leaves.

I gazed at the leafy sky and tried to join the scintillating dots to form a face I knew and missed the most. The serene sky reminded me of my mother, her patient and tender eyes. She had been hunted down by some two-legged creatures whose scent I had never before smelt. I still remember hearing rubber move on the ground and a large metallic vehicle stop. When those creatures spotted my mother, two pulled out, what looked like long sticks. One screeched and was soon joined by more of his type. Five surrounded my mother with a net, a few of them were holding those sticks. Bang! Bang! Bang! Three of them shot her one-by-one, and left behind an eerie silence.

I can never forget their fiery, murderous eyes and my mothers helpless, pleading ones. She asked me to run and hide. Those were her last words to me…

Read More »


The sun set on another evening of May,
They played with their toys all day,
They couldn’t have known, they didn’t,
Their grandmother was no more, and they had no hint

One was seven, and the other five
Their mother thought, they were too naïve,
To comprehend this invariable cycle of life,
A man’s destiny, which God, Himself writes

The father thought, they ought to know
The curiosity in their young minds would only grow
The kids cherished her presence, they loved her dearly
She would remain etched in their memory…

The five-year-old tugged her mother’s white sari
And asked, “Where is she, where is dadi?”
The other sat on his father’s lap and looked up at his face
He wondered why his father’s eyes never met his gaze…

The two, old, sullen eyes met each other
How would they tell them about the beloved grandmother?
They stood there still, tongue tied,
How were they to tell them that she had died?

This one is still untitled, I just can’t name it.  Suggestions are welcome.

Not for reproduction.

A Wish

His heart seemed to palpitate, regretfully,
Just to hear that one voice, that would make his day
And let him die peacefully…

It was his birthday today,
He couldn’t decide if he should be happy or sad,
He thought about the last eighty years as he lay

He had lived his life in repentance.
He wondered if his son remembered,
Not having spoken to his kin proved to be a bitter sentence

All that he wanted was forgiveness,
For the deeds that appeared justified then,
But now had transformed his life into a living mess

Something told him, that his wish would be granted,
His conscience pricked the fatuous desire,
He wanted to believe that thought, but it fainted

He didn’t let the tears spoil the postcard, the last one
His son had sent, countless years back.
He lay there, feeling numb and lone

He faintly heard the shrill sound of the phone,
And his cold fingers slowly gripped the receiver as he lay,
His heart thumped hearing the voice’s tone.

God had displayed his benign grace
And fulfilled his last wish
A smile spread across his wrinkled face

But he did not respond, not a word he said,
His heart’s last temptation had been satisfied
He lay, as if cold and dead…

Not for reproduction.

I’ll Be There For You!

They were always spotted together, Nikita, Meheka, Shivali and Avni. They knew each other since…since they couldn’t remember when and everybody knew they were the best of friends.

Shivali was the quiet one, the one who would speak only when spoken to. But her ‘true’ jovial and witty nature would be exposed only once she was comfortable in your presence. She always seemed to see the best in the others. She did not know how to express feeling in words or friendship charms, but the other three understood. In her opinion, the language of friendship was not words but meanings.

An aura of warmth radiated from Meheka. The fire in her eyes kept the others warm. She had clear goals set for herself, for her future, but lost confidence in her caliber, at times and needed to be told how good she really was. When Shivali and Meheka got together, they cooked up the most hilarious one-liners you could imagine! After all, it is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.

Nikita was the juvenile and chirpy. She could never decide if it was the right time to speak or not and usually landed in troubled waters because of her frank opinions (and had to be later fished out of trouble by the other three). Nikita kept the mood light and cheerful. Her creative use of the English alphabet, as well as her budding arty skills made her stand out in the crowd.

The geeky one was Avni. She was the one who would never come in anybody’s way, unless they happened to be going down. She made sure all the other three maintained their levels of sanity. She was the kind of friend who walked in when the rest of the world walked out. The other three lifted her spirits and helped her to be more optimistic towards life.

There was nothing common between the four, but, an invisible and mysteriously invincible strength held them together. They felt each others’ pains and enjoyed each others’ pleasures…and cried and laughed together. The four were inseparable. They held on and vowed never to let go.

Some people just come into our lives and quickly go, while some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts.

Not for reproduction.

The Phone Call

It was a dark evening this Thursday night,
And as she sat on the green garden grass,
She gazed above and saw a moon, so white,
Glaring right back at her

She held the pendant which read,
‘To My Little Angel’, close to her heart
And remembered her father and what he said,
I’ll always be here for you’.

But it seemed as though the sky, so dim
Told her, something wasn’t right,
There was something, pulling her away from him,
An invisible and mysteriously invincible strength

She didn’t know why, a tear trickled down,
She couldn’t understand why,
Those tears filled her eyes, so brown,
And then unknowingly, began to weep out loud

The night surged on, and there she was,
Without a sound, still holding on,
Wondering why her cries wouldn’t pause,
Why her eyes didn’t dry…

She went astray in the thoughts, of those memories, so sweet
And thinking about those marvellous days she spent
With her dad, made her heart skip a beat
She knew, something wasn’t the way it used to be…

The phone began to ring, in the dead of the night,
Feeling so numb, she ignored the shrill sound,
It rang yet again, so she got up, slowly with all her might,
She walked, slowly to the buzzing receiver.

She greeted the solemn voice, with a meek ‘hello’,
The voice seemed to bring her, the news she dreaded,
The news which made her face turn yellow,
And she insensitively dropped the receiver…

Not for reproduction.

The Elder Sibling

“You’ve got to set an example for her to follow” and “Look after her, and she’ll look up to you” are amongst things that I hear being ‘the elder sibling’. Ever since I was three I’ve been ‘blessed’ with a sister. And it is since then that she just needs to shed a tear and then the combat is won!!

All my dolls and soft toys now belong to her and if they come back in tatters or are wrecked, she has a pretty good excuse. All I’m supposed to do is to ‘forgive and forget’. A few years down memory lane, I’ve even had to play with her, all those games which seem juvenile and have had to learn the art of seeming to enjoy the cartoons, which no longer interest me.

I have to keep a track of the time and see that we don’t get delayed in catching the bus for school. And all that she has to do is maintain a record of all those cartoons on television and the time to ‘feed’ and put her dolls to sleep.

In birthday bashes or at school, it’s my job, you can say, to see to it that my younger sibling does not misbehave or is not up to any mischief.

Whether I am working on the computer or watching a program on television, she will always want to do the same at the very same time…sometimes I give in to her, but typically I prefer to fight and you can guess the consequences.

Be it us bickering, or me screaming at her (she must’ve have done something wrong!), it is I who always is held responsible; before I storm out of the room grumbling that she started it!

Even during the exam time, she has all the time to play and fool around, whereas, I’ve got to slog and even restrict my time for sleeping and eating. Hey! That’s not fair, but it’s always going to be that way…she is the younger one, remember?

It’s not all that bad being the elder one. I sometimes feel guilty because I keep making her do all my chores. Even though she argues with me, she gives in and always helps me out…even if she is reluctant. She looks up to me and listens to ME …yes! Me! As if it is the last word.

It makes me feel so esteemed, when she looks up to me with wonder-struck eyes, listens to all my explanations in awe, when she grasps my hand before crossing the road…these little innocent gestures make my day. Yes, she depends on me and I love her. She is an asset in making me a better person; I know there is always those bright sparking eyes watching me make my next move and trying to emulate me. How can I do wrong?

And behind all those quarrels over a piece of chocolate or, who gets to hold the remote, is a love that truly binds the both of us together. I feel it whenever she is sick, or wounded I feel very sorry for her because it is my sister who is hurt and I try to do all that I can and be benevolent to make her feel better. And when she is scolded, I feel my heart throb very fast and I feel anxious to know what happened.

I feel forlorn when she is not around, and be it those pathetic jokes, which I have to pretend laughing at or the numerous times she drops something and I call her ‘butter fingers’, she gives me company and always keeps me entertained.

My friends, who don’t have a sibling to share with, tell me how lonesome they feel at home. Alone, without anyone to talk to, quarrel with and share the novelties of the day. They are surely missing out on the very basic, down-to-earth and sometimes irritating explanations for everything.

While I know we will always be quarrelling over the stupidest of things, she will always be my sweet (and naughty) little sister.

We have already promised to each other that when we grown up, we will not waste our phone bills calling each other up – I don’t think I will be able to resist that temptation.

Not for reproduction.


Are you looking for music with fusion of both, pop rock guitar notes and soft, soothing lyrics? Well, I too was. And then I stumbled upon an alternative rock band named COLDPLAY. Since then Chris Martin (Vocals), Jonny Buckland (Lead guitar), Guy Berryman (Bass Guitar) and Will Champion (Drums) have become names that keep popping up in my mind.

Coldplay, as a band, began their melodious voyage in the year 1997 and has since released four virtually awesome studio albums.



‘Parachutes’, their debut album, was released in the year 2000 with smashing hits like, ‘Yellow’ and ‘Trouble’. The album also went down very well with the critics and was awarded the Best Alternative Music Album Award at the 2002 Grammy Awards night.



Coming up next was ‘A Rush Of Blood To The Head’, released in 2002 with numerous super-hit singles like ‘In My Place’ and ‘Clocks’ jostling with each other which still haunt me.


X & Y

Their third studio album, ‘X & Y’ hit the stores in 2005. The leading single, ‘Speed Of Sound’ was an instant hit and still appeals my ears. This album also has soft ballads like ‘Fix You’ and ‘What If’.


This is Coldplay’s latest album and was released earlier this year. It is, I think an experimental one. The songs, along with their pacifying effect also include Coldplay’s rocking distorted-guitar tracks. The album has been produced by the legendary Brian Eno.

‘Viva La Vida Or Death And All His Friends’ comes to life with the track, ‘Life In Technicolour’ which is an instrumental beginning to this album. The 2 minute 29 seconds song is absolutely mesmerizing. It is a completely different sound from Coldplay with a blend of the gentle piano and stunning guitaring. It gives an ideal intro to the album.

The second track is named, ‘Cemeteries Of London’. It is very beautifully linked to the first song. The line in the chorus, ‘la lalalala la lé’ appealed to my ears.

I found the next song, ‘Lost!’ really moving and in the usual Coldplay ‘soothing’ genre. The first two lines “Just because I’m losing/ Doesn’t mean I’m lost” lay the basic theme of the song and encouraged and motivated me never to give up hope and keep reaching high.

‘42’ begins with Martin at his piano, singing, “Those who are dead are not dead/ They’re just living in my head”. It’s like they mean that the dead are lingering in their memory. It is after that the song plunges into a lively loud guitar fragment and then goes back to the haunting style of the intro.

The tracks, ‘Lovers In Japan/ Reign Of Love’ and ‘Yes’ remind me of songs of their previous albums.

‘Viva la Vida’, the title track is one of my favourite songs on this record. The jerky vocals and perfect rhythm is absolutely commendable.

‘Violet Hill’ is the first single of the album and features Chris Martin holding a magnifying glass throughout the video. The song has remained as one of my favourite tracks from the album from the time of release.

Up next was, ‘Strawberry Swing’. The song is a gorgeous and melodious one, having a good theme and very well-written lyrics.

‘Death And All His Friends’ is the final track in the album and the beginning has the Vocalist, Chris Martin’s voice amidst soft guitaring. The song is telling us to be different from the common race of man and abstain from following the heard, through the lyrics, “So come over, just be patient, don’t worry.”

So get up from those couches and reach out to the nearest store and garb a CD. ‘If music be the food of love, play on;’…Coldplay.