Flipping through the pages of my diary

Some days we all go like, "Life is so big, people come and go, and I don't care." But then, one night, all the Bollywood songs hit you right where it hurts, and you’re there beside the radio while driving back home, realizing that some people don't come back and some people can never be replaced. You realize you keep looking for that person in everyone you meet, and isn't it injustice to all three of you? The one who is new in your life can't be accepted for who they are. The one who you are thinks you have moved on, but you haven't—and probably never will—from that person. And lastly, the one from your past wonders: if they meant that much, why did you ever let go of each other? This is just one of those nights when I stumbled upon this song, "Tera Hone Laga Hoon," and especially this part of the song: "आओ कि शबनम की बूँदें बरसती हैं, मौसम इशारा है, हाँ, अब तो चले आओ." The tragedy of nights like these is the utter sadness in my heart—m...

Sounds that have always comforted me: Clinking spoons and bowls when people eat, Water pouring in the glass when you wake up thirsty in the middle of the night, Slurping hot noodles, Family laughing together, Pattering of rain on the roof, The voice of thunder, Ripple sounds when you throw a stone in a pond, Cutting of clogs of wood amidst a dense forest, Sound of a sigh, Breaking of a chocolate to give another to someone, Tintinnabulation of wind chimes, Rustling of leaves, Splashing of water, Crashing of waves, Whispering of the breeze, The breath of pages, The sizzling of food on a pan, The cracking of spices in hot oil, The bubbling of stew on the stove, The crackling of a fire on a cold night, The chirping of crickets in the stillness of the evening, The distant hum of a train passing in the night, The gentle creak of a rocking chair, The clatter of raindrops on an umbrella, The whooshing sound of leaves being swept by the wind, The hum of a ceiling fan on a quiet afternoon, The f...