hold on

How much vintage magic can you recreate with early morning abba? With a novel carrying you from rainy vespers to peaceful mornings? With brett lee posters and old curtains? With harry potter? Who am I kidding? Times are changing and fast. Do I pine for the days gone by? Youth, loss and yearning for redemption. Is it my story? Is it the story of every stranger on the pavement? Is it the sigh of the dying man at what could have been but sadly never was?
It isn’t my story. I am 16 not 76. I don’t want to be that moribund man and yet I am fooling myself with the frivolities of past. With the conviction that everything is same, something that sometimes deep down even I don’t believe myself. Am I trying to be what I was and what I can be, eventually to really just confront who I am? Have I grown out of these things? And yet I delight in them more and more with each passing day. ”The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of.” I guess Pascal understood it better than me. And that’s that.

ps:happy diwali. hope you guys have a great time.