Break.

Change. From annoying stuck-ups to exasperating household predicaments, break the curse. End the horror. Mark the trail. Terminate the bumpy road that you thought you had no choice but to take all your life. Look around, and find ten more ways, for they all lead to somewhere worthwhile. Whether it's a billion fairytales to a million nightmares, learn to learn. Learn to enlighten. Learn to live. It doesn't matter whether you've liked her for the past six years or you came across her online like a jackass. It doesn't matter whether your father has abandoned you or whether you wish money fell from the skies if the big guy up there wanted you to see the light of tomorrow. Knit your own destiny. Illuminate the past back to the present and let it guide you into the future. Walk into tomorrow holding your shadow's hand. Let a massive pitch-riot take place in your mind, because a battle always has a conclusion. You're not alone. You're never alone. Choose your poison. Live your ecstacy. Believe in fate. In fortune. In luck. In charm.

For the light is in your hands. Don't let it fall.

Marksmen of Love.

He was ready. And he was sane. He'd dropped his guard, and let the emotions get the better of him. He was prepared for her to know, and for her to reciprocate. He wanted to hold her hand and suspend his love into the Null Void of fantasies. He wanted her hair to fall softly on her face and cover her surreal smile, only so that it would never be stolen. He wanted to embrace the ethereal warmth that her body radiated, and preserve her presence in his arms. He never wanted to let go. No thinking. No variables. He didn't want his head to get in the way again. Love defies reason. He wanted to hug her, comfort her, hold her hand and take her home. He finally wanted to understand how two people's fingers fit around each other's perfectly. He'd give her the last of his shining sun, and with her he'd stare into the dancing stars which will represent the beauty of tomorrow's memory. He'd never want any of the nights with her to end. He wants to feel what he expects her to feel. He wants to end the fight between the mind and the heart, the body and the soul. He wants to know what it feels like to have those hormones coursing through his veins, his being; something he remembers feeling only in dreams. He wants her celestial aura to be the cushion to his steeled heart, and her touch to be his morphine; an addiction like never before. He's ready. And he's sane. But all the dreams that he has,

will he get a chance to do the same?

Vest of Unconventionality.

Eat. Sleep. Die. Roti, kapda aur makaan. This society is imposing, if anything. A person wastes each second trying to fit into it. Eating what it eats. Sleeping when it sleeps. Doing what it does. Social dogmas control your breathing. You fog the reality, and go wherever the haze takes you. May it be a place you despise, but hey! Who wants to be unique? Smiling faces that are dead inside, warm handshakes which plot your downfall, but it doesn't bother you. You know, deep down, that you're meant for more. But you're afraid of being called a freak. Afraid of being unaccepted by society. You don't want to be a white thread knitted in a black gown. Difference scares you. You hide your ideas, seal your opinions, and darken your thoughts. You turn the lights off so that no one can see you. Because it doesn't matter who you are inside, but it is your actions that define you. But what if today, you make a stand? What if you stop painting yourself in that socially acceptable camouflage? What if you stop trying to mould yourself into the shape of the missing piece of the puzzle, ruling out the possibility that you're a part of a bigger puzzle? What if, today, you wear the vest of unconventionality and live free?

Give it a thought. Maybe you'll change the world.