The Scribbling Architect

I cry for strangers when they loose their family I cry when I see then hurting I wish I could comfort them I wish I could share their pain If only it would make it a little better But time passes and I forget I forget I cried I forget feeling helpless The feeling of giving comfort is no more Then does my tears count? Were they really real? Or was it just the pain of the moment? The dead have died Lost and comfortable moving on The living still miss them But so long after, it does not matter to me Does my tears still count?

They were whispering. "Do you hear it?" "What am I listening to?" Smelling the air, "I love the smell of the earth. Its going to rain" "You think?" "Listen." "What?!" "The wind." Points towards the shrub. "The leaves." "What?!" "They are happy. They are eager. You can hear their impatience." A sudden burst of rain, a surprised laughter and a shriek. "You yell like a girl." "Well. We are getting wet." "So?" "Lets go." "Lets stay." A deep sigh and an affirmative smile to a pleading one. "Achoo."

I am sapiosexual. So any artist or scientist can make me really hot and bothered by just doing what their job description entails. Now actors as just as such. So here I was wondereing how my parents are unable to find me a groom (i am okay with an arrange marriage) when they showed me photograph of this guy standing beside Nagarjuna, a really awesome Tollywood actor, I got confused as asked my mom if Nagarjuna is ready for his third marriage, why else would you show me his picture? She said its the guy beside him that is a prospective. Can you imagine my disappointment at that? I asked, "why can't I have Nagarjuna?" "His kids are older than you! Do you want one of them? They are nearer to your age." "it would be so wrong for whichever kid if I am flirting with (more like throwing myself at) his father. I would be a good mother to them though. Like a friend" My mom thought I was joking. I don't get why she doesn't take me seriously. Simila...

I have never liked surprises. It annoys me to no end. Surprises always take a lot of your time and completely ruin the schedule. Call me anal about it but I hate surprises. Everything changed the moment I saw a Harley parked in front of the gate. My friend said he is coming in five and to come out and that he had a surprise, something I would like. I abused him a bit before giving up on him telling me what it was. As I approached the gate, there it was. Proudly showing off the muscles. My heart skipped a beat. Literally. I was speechless for a moment and then - give me the keys. I never knew that Harley would be the first ever proper bike I would ride. As the engine roared beneath me, I could feel my heart flutter. The happiness was so pure and elating and I was struck by the intensity of emotion. How could a simple engine do that. I knew I was a fan of bikes but always underestimated it to be just a floozy idea. I thought I was in love with the idea of loving bikes passionately. But ...