Serendipity

If only people were more like flowers.

Neha Kapoor — Tue, 30 Oct 2012 20:21:24 +0000

I glanced at the flower shop from the cab’s window. Beautiful, radiant flowers. Part of life’s triumphant moments and sorrows alike. We bring them to birthdays to celebrate life, and to funerals to mourn death. I couldn’t help but wish that the people in our lives were more like flowers. I couldn’t help but wonder how life would be if people remained a part of our lives and stood by us in our lows as they do in our highs. That they’d be with us when we are at our worst, as they are when we are at our best. Maybe then, not just life, we would be different.

Filed under: A journey called Life, Life, Love, Musings

Freedom to me is… (Independence Day Competition Winning Entry)

Neha Kapoor — Wed, 05 Sep 2012 18:14:53 +0000

Yayyyy I won I won!

Just got to know that I won the write-up competition held in my organization on Independence Day. Super duper happy!

Here is what I had sent in : (Topic was, what does freedom mean to you. Word limit 100 words)

Freedom, to me, means, being able to enjoy my independence.

But in my opinion, freedom will be realized when every citizen is free. I will celebrate when I won’t see children working as labor. I will celebrate women aren’t being burnt to death. I will celebrate when girls can choose what to study, whom to marry, what to wear. I will celebrate when every girl child is allowed to live. Then we can say we have independence. Independence from ignorance and hatred.

I’m not cynical. I’m proud of my country. I want more. I dream bigger dreams for my motherland.

Filed under: A journey called Life

The drug called love

Neha Kapoor — Thu, 30 Aug 2012 00:10:01 +0000

He kissed her goodnight. The wonderful evening had ended. It was a good thing it ended with a good kiss.

That’s the thing about good dates. She wondered if she was falling in love with him. Or if she was falling in love with having someone to walk on the beach with. To share dessert with. She wondered, when we love someone, do we really love them, or the wonderful time we spend with them? Is that why long distance relationships don’t work? Because people love the times together, and not each other? But then, she knew people who had the most horrible times with each other yet they were together. Maybe they were in love with the pain. More like addiction. People know drugs are bad for them yet they do them. Some relationships are like that. You just cannot kick the habit.

Filed under: A journey called Life, Life, Love, Musings

Memories

Neha Kapoor — Mon, 13 Aug 2012 04:46:27 +0000

Nostalgia is a funny thing. It can strike you at the oddest times. At the strangest places. With familiar smells. Familiar sounds. You see old faces in new ones. You find comfort in new surroundings. At the end of the day, our memories are our masters. And best friends too.

Filed under: A journey called Life, Musings

A half-smoked cigarette

Neha Kapoor — Wed, 07 Mar 2012 23:57:43 +0000

As the cigarette in her hand burned, she thought of her life, burning away. The smoke of her dreams and hopes, only she could see. She knew deep down that just like the cigarette, she had lit up her life on fire herself. She had no one to blame. No one had offered her the lighter. She had been carrying it all along. Her mind, her bizarre world of thoughts, her twisted reflections, they were the flame. And so she smiled. Because now she knew what to do. She took one last drag, threw away the half smoked cigarette, and listened to “Coming Back to Life”.

Filed under: A journey called Life, Short Stories

Everything but you

Neha Kapoor — Wed, 07 Mar 2012 07:09:16 +0000

Songs that I sang for you. Places that remind me of you. People who look like you. The new friend I made through you. The new drink you made me try. The color I only wore because it was your favorite. The red lipstick you bought me. The cards I bought for you and never sent. I have everything, but you.

Filed under: A journey called Life

Denial

Neha Kapoor — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 18:03:12 +0000

Denial came easy to him. After all, he had spent half his life in it. He felt closer to it than any other person he ever loved. It never let him become close to anyone. He thought denial was his best friend, when denial was his nemesis.

Filed under: A journey called Life

Comfort in revenge?

Neha Kapoor — Sun, 04 Mar 2012 18:55:06 +0000

She often wondered about revenge. How it would feel, how it should be taken. So far she had refrained from it. But then it wasn’t easy being strong. Those memories, those toxic memories… they made her blood boil. Perhaps revenge would bring comfort. It would definitely be better than running away from anyone who loved her. Perhaps revenge might bring back her ability to trust. Or perhaps she was asking for too much.

Filed under: A journey called Life, Short Stories

He could never really tell where he lost her.

Neha Kapoor — Thu, 01 Mar 2012 20:39:09 +0000

As he read old letters from her, he couldn’t help but wonder where he lost her. Perhaps on that road where he left her walking all alone because they ended up fighting while shopping for him. Perhaps on that staircase where she received that call from the girl he was cheating on her with. Or perhaps on the floor of her bathroom, where lay the used pregnancy test showing a negative. He could never really tell where he lost her.

Filed under: A journey called Life, Short Stories Tagged: Short Story

And I wait…

Neha Kapoor — Sat, 18 Feb 2012 11:43:58 +0000

I haven’t held your hand yet, I haven’t kissed you yet, I haven’t laid my eyes on you yet.

I don’t know your name. You don’t know mine.

But I can see us dancing in the rain, kissing, laughing. And while the world around me is in love, with you I have made a world of love, in my dreams, in my thoughts, while I wait…

Maybe I have met you before. Maybe we were friends or more. But love always seemed obscure, and now I wait, I wait for love to mean more.

Never held your hand, but I know your fingers fit mine. Never saw your body, but I know it’ll envelope mine. Never kissed you, but I know your lips taste like wine, and I wait…

(Courtesy Google images)

Filed under: A journey called Life, Love, Poetry