#igwritersclub

98599 posts

TOP POSTS

The stakes are too high, but never worthy of taking away your smile!

Sé que mis textos los leen un 5% de las personas que tengo por aquí, si llega.

Eso es lo de menos.

A mí también se me escapa el tiempo
entre las yemas de los dedos.

Y al final solo quiero
ser un pequeño jardín 
de primavera, 
para cuando llegue el fin
que se salve de mí 
todo lo que pueda.
Ofrecer algo por y para el mundo
aunque sean fragmentos de 300 segundos.

#escritosen5minutos #andresdosleyes #conversoconversos

"You have to begin to lose your memory, if only in bits and pieces, to realize that memory is what makes our lives. Life without memory is no life at all ... Our memory is our coherence, our reason, our feeling, even our action. Without it, we are nothing ..."
– Luis Buñuel
.
___
.
.
'But what happened to your house, after you all crossed the border?' I asked my Dida (maternal grandma) this morning. 'It all belonged to Pakistan then: the house, the garden, even the utensils,' she responded, matter-of-factly.
.
'You left behind everything?'
.
'Everything,' she said, with a casual nod of her head. Acknowledging, that now the memories of her childhood is as distantly located as Dhaka itself – in another country.
.
__
.
.
Our mind and our brain enjoy a curious relationship with each other, a relation that is still in want of extensive research – in case of unique cases, demand explanation – in part of neuroscience. In the book that I am currently reading, Oliver Sacks publishes twenty-four of those unique instances, drawing the history of the patient and not only the pathological subject as expected from a "case-history".
.
.
We at our home have now almost entirely harmonized our lives around my grandmother's chiefly disoriented state of mind. Nonetheless, she never fails to surprise us with her sudden rush of nostalgic recollections. Today, was one of those rare days when the stories of her birth in Dhaka, her young adult days in Calcutta and Allahabad, followed by a sizable part of life in Delhi, clouded her head.
.
.
An entire life – spent in four cities, two countries – of unforeseen travels, work, fashioning a home, of raising two children is gradually and noticeably degenerating under the roof of our home. I often wonder, what is even the point of life, if we are all to perish eventually embracing the silence by our own memories?
There must be, there needs to be a point; to save ourselves from being defeated by the nothingness of human life. Could all those people I would never meet and only hear about – in the stories of my grandmother, my mother – hold the key to my dilemma?
#MarkersofMemory
.
.
.

MOST RECENT

Like in all those Hindi movies, our friendship begin from a fight. Following the gossip that, he has a crush on me. It's quite easy to get in sync with someone if your friendship began from a quarrel. We'd laugh at that incident every time we fought later on. Sooner, we became best friends. The best part was that, I was his only girl best friend and I was both proud and possessive about it. It was cute to note him get jealous on my other friends and not admitting it at any cost.
As all best friends, he'd share everything with me. His love at first sight, relationship status, break ups, everything. Family was in sync too. Coming over wasn't a big deal anymore.
Once, his relationship with a girl, who doesn't deserved her began to make cracks in our relationship. I convinced him a lot not to fall for her, yet he did. Distance began to spread between us. Down to heart we both missed each other.
After that breakup too, nothing really got back. We were still best friends but not by meeting, calling or texting frequently.
He'd try hitting on me, but I'd never mind. He used to give me hints, but I never got on to those.
And one day after being fed up of his hints, I told him to stop doing that. And suddenly, he asked me if he can ask me something. Yeah, I told you shoot for it. "Can we kiss?"
Trust me, I was shocked. What would you do if your best friend asks you so?
For me, that was a moment of realization. Realizing that he was never a "good friend". Realizing that, I've lost one more from my best friends circle.
Being friends for years, sharing everything each other, he'd looked at me in some other way. It's heartbreaking to realize I was stupid enough not to recognize a fake friend.. I could see him fading away from me, myself... #YQBaba
Follow my writings on @YourQuote.in #yourquote #quote #stories #ttt #qotd #quoteoftheday #wordporn #quotestagram #wordswag #wordsofwisdom #inspirationalquotes #writeaway #thoughts #poetry #instawriters #writersofinstagram #writersofig #writersofindia #igwriters #igwritersclub

Most Popular Instagram Hashtags