A letter to all humans

Dear human,

Do you ever wonder what the world would be like without pain? What would happen if we were all happy all the time; if there’d be no sad, distressed or depressed souls? I say there’d be no art or artists in such a world. Being an artist (writer) myself, I know how art is a refuge to so many of us. Refuge from the pain, the pain that eventually becomes an inspiration to us.

Also, do you think we would have valued or desired all the good things and happiness in life if we hadn’t known what pain was? If we hadn’t ever been sad or heartbroken, would we have made paintings, written songs and books about pursuing happiness and love? No, we wouldn’t have. We’d just be constantly smiling robots in a utopian world for our entire lives. I mean, that’s where we lose the essence of life. That isn’t what life means! The purpose of our existence is not what we think it is; life isn’t asking us to be eternally happy, it’s asking us to embrace happiness and pain both as we live. 

There’s a certain beauty to death as well, and I intend to see that beauty. What’s beautiful about death is that, when you’re dying, death does more to the people around you than it does to you. In the same way, l think, your life affects other lives. Deep down, I think all of us are grieving. Some of us show it, some of us don’t. 

Some people don’t want to be consoled when they’re distressed. I’m there for such people, for I will not mourn with you, nor will I console you. I will only listen and acknowledge your pain, and sometimes, that’s all one needs – a listener. 

I don’t know you, you don’t know me either. And, in the end, we don’t even know ourselves or each other as well as we think we do. But, art brings out the life in us, and I think there’s an artist in all of us. 

I just want you to know, that your thoughts are welcome in my world. Expressing yourself is art too, so feel free to reach out to me, and share whatever you’d like to. I may be younger or older than you, but that shouldn’t matter, for sometimes, a difference in age brings out a different perspective too. If it’s the first time you’re reading my blog, then write back to me. And, if we haven’t talked in a long time, then also write back to me, for I want to listen to what you have to say. Let’s talk about life, death, love, pain- anything! Let’s just talk, because I know that both of us have a lot to say, and a lot to share. 

A reminder:- It’s okay to feel pain. I know it’s cliche, but it’s okay to not be okay. Just don’t let the pain consume you. Don’t let it linger. And, if it helps, talk about it. You can take me into consideration when you think about sharing your thoughts. I’ll always be there when you need me to listen to you…

From one human to another,

Sending love 💜

A mysterious star

My hunger for meaning and validation brought me 33.9 million miles away from home. I never knew that I’d long to go back to the place, that I’ve been trying to run away from all my life.

Oblivion has never seemed as settling as it is now, since space is already considered to be infinite and full of strange possibilities. I’m just floating or I’d rather say drifting away from comfort into the cosmic universe, which is now my sad reality, until I die (that’s certain).

How am I so sure? Well, I’m stranded in a vacuumed space called ‘space’, with my partner, who is passed out. Our space suits are now struggling to provide us with enough oxygen, so I’m basically going to die of hypoxemia with a person who doesn’t even know my real name.

I’m going to die. Isn’t everyone going to? I should be glad that I’m not dying ordinarily, like everybody else does.

I hear someone gasping for air. Is it her? Am I really not alone?

As I see her open her pretty little hazel eyes, my eyes start to swell up with balls of tears. I can’t even shed my last tears. God, space is really messing with me!

My eyes sting from all the tears sticking to my eyeballs, and I see myself hugging her as tightly as I could in that giant space suit. She tries shedding a few happy tears too, but again, we’re in space.

“How long have I been out?” she asks.

“2 hours,” I say.

“That’s not possible. You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not!”

“It’s been 5 minutes, isn’t it?”

“How did you…?”

She cuts me off. “So, I’m right. Why did you lie?”

“Well, it felt like 2 hours, and I wanted to make you feel awful about leaving me alone, and passing out in such a situation.” She’s good at catching lies, I think.

“You’re such a child, Robert!”

Robert. Robert. Robert. Robert. My mind fills with the echoes of this word. I question myself: Do I really want to die being Robert? If it’s my last moment, I should really be living it as my real self, as Benjamin, not Robert (a guy I created using my imagination to hide my real self).

She seems to be lost in her own world of thoughts. We’re facing our backs towards each other, and I interrupt her silent yet loud conversation with her own self, by saying, “Audrey… I need to tell you something. I haven’t exactly been honest with you all this time.”

“Your name’s not Robert, you don’t have a wife, nor did you ever go to a high school.” She sounds extremely confident, when she says it.

“She really is good at catching lies,” I mutter.


“And, she has ears as sharp as a dog’s,” I mutter again.

“I can hear you,” she says as to notify me.

“God, this stupid microphone!”

“Maybe next time, try keeping it to yourself, or better, say it to my face, rather than speaking behind my back.”

“Can we at least not try being mean to each other right now?” I try diluting the conversation.


Though, I can’t help myself, but ask, “By the way, how did you know that I was lying about my identity?”

She sighs, “I’ve spent most of my life writing characters. I know when a person is who they say they are.”

“Wait. You’re a writer?” I sound too surprised. It’s not like she’s an arsonist.

“I wouldn’t exactly say that. I was just a girl trying to channelize her vivid imagination into something that didn’t land her in trouble.”


“Does it seem like I still have that imagination?”

“I don’t know. It seems like you’ve got a lot to say and offer to this world. Unfortunately, the world’s not lucky enough to have the whole of you.”

“Well, the universe will soon have the whole of me and you, wouldn’t it?”

“And, you’re okay with that?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says calmly.

“I don’t get it. I’ve spent my entire life being a mystery. I never let anyone have too much of me, and you… you’re just happily giving yourself away to the universe. How?”

“You know, my biggest fear is being forgotten. I wrote, so I wouldn’t be forgotten. My thoughts would still exist in this world, even if I didn’t. My words would still be heard, even if I wasn’t there to say them. Now, that I know I exist in those inked pages of my diary, as my soul walks on those black lines that support my words, I’m happy. No longer does my fear trouble me, and no longer do I long to live to be remembered.”

She falls silent, and so do I. I always thought I feared oblivion the most, but now that I think of it, it is being solved that frightens me. It’s not oblivion or being forgotten, but being known entirely, like a mystery being solved, that fears me the most.

I ask, “But, how do I deal with having lost myself to the universe? I’m a mystery never to be solved.”

“You don’t need to fear the universe. When you’ll die, you’ll know its secrets, and it will know yours. And, from what I know, the universe is good at keeping secrets, just like the stars it has kept to itself. You’ll make a good mysterious star. You’d still be a mystery never to be solved.”

I smile, “Still a mystery never to be solved.”

This is a short story I wrote. Let me know what you think about it.

A eulogy for a special someone

Ever experienced the salty sea breeze bracing towards you, like it does not have an end; it can go on forever? That’s what being with her was like; receiving constant surges of emotion, be it love or hatred.

Our relationship or I’d rather say bond, was like a coast: I-the beach and cliffs, and she-the oceanic waves.

I believed I was a mystery, and I never wanted to be solved. I know she always wanted to know more, gather as much of me as she could, but I didn’t let her, did I? I didn’t let her erode a lot of thoughts of mine, but I did give her most of me. Only did she deserve those lost parts of me.

Now, I wish I had let her erode all of me, for I can no longer be the person who I was with her. However, all I can do is let her deposit parts of herself, as she recedes back into the ocean that made her. 

She left me in the middle, with nowhere to go. I can neither reach up the surface and forget her nor can I go deeper. She’s the ocean that I poured my tears in, the ocean that I dived into, and the ocean that I drowned in. 

She knew me so well; more than anyone in my life. My vulnerability vanished as she did from this world, leaving me behind as the unsolved mystery I’ve always wanted to be. 

She ultimately gave me what I wanted, and I’m grateful for all that she’s done for me. Though, I’m sorry for not letting her have the whole of me. I didn’t give her what she deserved. I’m sorry…

I once told her that I’d love to be a person she wouldn’t like… I didn’t finish my words, so she insisted me to tell her the entire thing and explain what I meant when I said it. 

Honestly, it meant nothing in particular when I said it, but later on, I pondered and realised it did mean something. I said it for a reason. I didn’t want to be people’s expectations or predictions. I wanted to be unforeseeable and do unpredictable things, but she would almost always predict who I’d be, or what I’d do, so I  thought that the only chance I could be unpredictable, would be if I was someone she wouldn’t like.

I believe my life is a book. She’s the ellipsis in my story. Things have been left unspoken and incomplete because she was there to comprehend my silence; to understand without me having to explain anything. 

We both didn’t know how to smile, especially me. I’m sure she’s laughing at me while I say this. I’m lucky to have found an anti-social weirdo just like me and blessed to have her by my side for so long. May I cherish all the memories I shared with her…

This was actually a birthday gift to someone extremely special in my life. The most heartfelt gift I’ve ever given to anyone. The birthday girl says that it’s the best written piece of mine that she’s read yet. I’m glad you liked it, weirdo. I hope I never have to say it ,though. Just hang with me forever…


There is so much more to my life than what you see, than anyone sees. How do I explain the tears I’m shedding, when you’re the reason why?

You just don’t understand my emotions, my feelings, my thoughts…

I was longing to cry earlier, but now I wish I could somehow stop this rain from pouring down, and people from feeling my teardrops tracing their skin.

I hate to cry in front of people, to show them this vulnerable and weak side of mine, because that’s how they see it. See me.

I can neither cry in front of people, nor alone. Not alone, because I’m never physically alone, am I? I always have to face people with my swelled up eyes after crying, if not my tearful eyes while crying.

Well, crying isn’t the only problem here. The problem is you. You and your questions. You asking for an explanation. Why do I always have to explain it? Why?

Can’t I just let go for once, without having to explain it? Because I really don’t know myself. I don’t ever know the specific reason behind it, and I don’t want to tell you, even if I do know. Because, you will always question me. You will judge me, when I don’t want to be judged.

Listen to me! Stop being the person you’re being! Stop judging me! Console me, rather than asking for explanations, reasons…

Don’t assume, because sometimes things don’t mean anything. They don’t mean to happen. They just happen.

You don’t know me. No-one does. But, you should know a thing about me. I’m not a child, like you think of me to be. I’m more than you could ever imagine me to be!

So, don’t start telling me what’s right or what’s wrong; that I should try thinking positive; that I should control  my thoughts and emotions; that suicide is not an option; that I should share things with you, talk to you about my life, about what’s going on. Because I won’t! I don’t want to!

I will only do things that I want to! I will let myself decide what’s right or what’s wrong. I will not think positive just because you told me to, or because things aren’t going well. I will not control my thoughts for the world. My emotions drive me. They drive me crazy, but they keep me sane too. You don’t get to tell me that suicide isn’t an option. It is an option, but I will not choose it. Because, I’m not giving up on the life I choose to live. I will not share my life with you, if you keep telling me all these things…

I don’t want you to question or judge me. All I want is for you to console me and be there for me; understand me, comfort me, when I need you to.

Can you do that? Do you trust me enough? Can I trust you? Can I rely on you? Tell me!

(I hope you know me better now)

Here’s to a new year…

Here we are again…

Repeating the same things we do every year. The resolutions at the start of the year, turn into lost, forgotten promises to ourselves by the end of the year. We all think of starting afresh, but no-one really does. We’re all just exhausted old souls, bearing with the same life, year by year, hoping for things to go differently, but always forget that different doesn’t mean good.

I am tired and exhausted like never before. I need everything to end, but this new year is reminding me that it’s not over yet; it never will, and that there’s a lot more to come.

So, I can do nothing but let this soul turn older and wiser as each year passes. I think I’ll end this year with a heart warming smile, if not some incomplete goals or resolutions made by a year younger me.

I’m too exhausted to say anything else anymore.

Happy new year to those who find it happy and to those who don’t…

Something beautiful that I captured by the end of the year 2020


Guest post: Climate change is already making droughts worse | Carbon Brief

I’m longing to cry, like a sunflower longing for the Sun to shine upon it. It’s surprising for a girl, who was once so sensitive and emotional that she would cry over the silliest and most petty of things, to now find it difficult to grieve upon her sorrows. There is no tragical tale in my life that makes me want to cry, but those little things that have been mounding up inside of me all this time…

I can’t hold it inside me anymore. That is why, I thought letting it out through crying could help me move on and forget about it all. But how do I cry, when my eyes are as dry as the drought in my mind?

Although, some part of me finds this state comfortable to be in; it’s an excuse I can give to myself when I’m disoriented and lost. My thoughts have consumed all the moisture from my body, making my skin feel as dry as an autumn leaf. And therefore, my mind, body and soul are in a state of drought. I guess, times have changed; now I cry out words, not tears…

It’s time…

Lurking through graveyards, all around the world. Probably, there were too many for it to cover in the span of time it had (literally every place is a graveyard, even one’s heart). It took me in my sleep, into the darkest corner, to tell me that I was dead. It held me in its arms, taking me into the dark sky; drifting away from the darkness into the dark. Hmm… Even though, I didn’t know the reason behind my unexpected death, I didn’t think much about it.

I looked up, at the white watery bubbles above, wondering what shapes they’d formed. They reminded me so much of my damp ceiling that had its layers coming off; made them look like the things I was seeing in the sky, right now.

“Those are called clouds”, it said.

“What?” I asked with a mild cough.

“Those things you’re looking at are called clouds, and I’m taking you there.” It smiles at me. Though, it’s lips are quivering, as if it’s forceful.

“They were already there below. They are also present where I live. Except, that they don’t move.” I said, and then wondered if they would behave the same way, if left out in the open sky like these ones; wandering freely.

“That’s one of the reasons, those aren’t clouds, hon. Clouds, like humans, embark on a beautiful journey: facing challenges; beautiful sunsets; separa…” And then it stops, as if it would hurt to complete the word.

Tears well up in its eyes, changing its expression entirely. I see the corners of its mouth bend downwards, and its tears drop like heavy rain.

I don’t know why it saddens, but I can’t see the only being (living, it seems to me), that cared enough to take me with it, be upset.

I observe the clouds, and then ponder for a while. The silence among us grows like wild flowers, and that’s when I decide to open my mouth.

“You know, I’ve been observing these clouds. They separate from one another and then combine again, to make themselves bigger, forming as many shapes as one can think of, just so they can go on with their journey forever. I was separated from the people around me on Earth, from my life, to come continue that journey along with you. I’m so glad it’s you I’ve been destined to go on with.” I say, softly.

A wide smile comes across its face, and it calmly says, “Thank you.”

It’s been a while now, and we’re still drifting away. Drifting into the dark light, into my afterlife, away from inhumanity, into something I consider more human than ever.

I close my eyes as we drift into nothingness; something humans find uncomfortable to be around. It’s finally time for me to feel comfort in things like death’s embrace, that I’m currently in. Time for me to be nothing in the world I left behind and be nothing again in the world I have now entered…

Written by – Kamya Seervi

Author’s note:- This one’s for Akira Jay – the brave and selfless girl. You’ve always done so much for me and so many other people, without having anyone do anything for you. I know you liked this one, when it was in its initial phase of being written. I had left it midway, because I didn’t see the potential in this one, but it’s you who made me realise that it had that potential, just that I had to bring the best out myself. Thank you for always making me feel special, and encouraging me to write when I doubted myself. You inspire me to be no-one else, but my true self, and I’m so grateful to you for that. You’re an incredible person, as well as writer. And again, I’m going to say the same thing I said earlier…

“तुम में एक अलग ही बात है।”

Mark my words. You’re going to leave a big mark on this world, so dare you doubt yourself ever again. Be brave and keep supporting me like you always do. Here’s to being there for each other in all the years to come…

Unlit thoughts…

All the places around me are lit. Probably we humans, are the darkness that allows them to shine.

I’m an observer; a secretly invasive one. I try to look around for someone I can observe, but who would come outside at 10pm on a Diwali night?

What else can I look at?

Answer- the balconies!

I notice a family having a bonfire in their balcony, something I wish I could do with my family (it’s been long).

The loud bursts of crackers don’t allow me to read or talk to anyone else. However, my thoughts seem to be comfortable this way. Strange…

I ponder for a while and then start noting my thoughts down. These are my thoughts:

We fill our lives with loud crackers to elude the grief reality behind. The difference is, I’m using the loud noise that others are creating, to not elude, but dive deeper into my grief.

I enjoy observing more than being observed. It seems to get a little quite now, making my thoughts more silent, so I see myself walking back home, because I have nothing else to do.

I guess, this Diwali went just like the last one, but a little better. I enjoyed my loneliness more than I did before.

And so, all the places around me are lit, because I’m not…

Short walk; long talk…

I go out for a short walk; hoping to see some stars in the night sky. Unfortunately, there’s not a single one to spot. I wish my nights were more starry. Well, at least I have flowers and beautiful plants to see around. Despite the fact, that they are blossoming and creeping over the wall from the other side. This side of the wall is dark, and it’s just like my life. No dreams to look up to and the only happiness I get is others’. No matter, how much I try to plant the seeds of happiness, all I get is thorns to bear. I guess the soil isn’t fertile enough on my side. I want to be able to be happy on my own. I want to feel that pleasantness, but for some reason, I need others to stimulate it in me. Why can’t I just be happy from within, without having my surroundings happy? Uff! Overdose of the word ‘happy’…

I know why: my emotions keep working against me when they should be working with me. All this time, my brain was making me think that I won’t be able to be genuinely happy from within. It’s not onerous for one to feel happiness and love. It’s as easy and simple as it could be, so I decide, I’m not going to be the push-start machine that requires stimulation from others to feel pleasant and loved. Let me feel the love come from within and that happiness radiate from me.

It doesn’t matter if I can’t see the stars. I am the star of my life, and only I’m responsible for my happiness. Let me not expect the flowers to bloom instantly. I’m going to focus on the process because that is what is going to bring out the outcome-happiness. Let me sow in the seeds, water them, nurture them and see those flowers bloom beautifully…

P.S.- I know this isn’t like a usual post, but I thought I needed it, and maybe you needed it too. Just ponder: do you want to be a self-start machine or a push-start machine? Don’t let your surroundings or the people around you decide your feelings or emotions. Take a step inwards, and change your thinking. Make your brain work with you.

Also, most of the content/ideas in this post have been inspired by Sadhguru. I recommend you all to listen to his talks. They are profound and deep yet simple when we realise what is being talked about. I hope you all learn something new or teach me something (I’d love to listen to your thoughts). Until the next time we meet, carpe diem!

Embellished in flowers

This is the moment of realisation. The moment when the truth seeps in and my heart slowly sinks in the ocean of despair. I didn’t know it would feel like this…

Eyes, dreamy as ever, and breath so tranquil, it shook the wind. For the first time in my life, I’m not confused; I know what’s happening. I feel so alive, suddenly.

I’m glad I’m embellished in flowers, not jewels, for now I’m submerging in my bed of blossoms. One can not make the difference between me and the flowers, now.

It’s time for me to go to sleep, I guess. As I take my last breath, I tell the flowers to close my eyes, for I don’t want to see a world without me. All I want to do is, fall into deep sleep and only see my inner self.

I ask myself, “Have I finally escaped this labyrinth of suffering?

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