Quote

A Book is just a stupid set of lines…

GoSolo (1)A Book is just a stupid set of lines. Nobody can really understand anything.

People read and make a meaning out of it to their understanding or the extent that suits them.

A book is a part of someone else’s life that they’ve left for others as they’ve already lived it. They either want to share that part with you or throw it away far from them like an amputated arm.

GoSolo

Only with the writer’s state of mind, their circumstances can we understand the true meaning of his lines, by not just reading a language but living the emotions. But is that possible? To have that state of mind to read between the lines. The metaphors, the words can all be a lie, a deceiving trickery by the author or may have a deeper meaning than we can ever imagine or grasp.

But we all love to read, to at least grasp the macro idea of it while trying and looking for something meaningful relevant to us in some way.

 

Image

My Heart is Beach…

GoSolo (4)My heart is Beach; your footsteps are all I have. The pretty shells, oysters, conchs that come to shores once in a while and then go back to ocean with the next wipe are our memories together. Memories that we made together, having little laughs every day.
There’s a thing about memories, they’re never good or bad, the situation makes them, similarly, these shells aren’t either bad or good, our being far is to blame.

GoSolo (6)Just like rivers meet, our hearts diffused to create this beautiful ocean of ours. And this ocean’s depth was my love for you. And like a magic trick, while my eyes just blinked, your heart left me. Because we were one ocean, weren’t we? Now the depth of the ocean is the deepness of my thoughts.

The eyes that saw you every time, that fixed the shape of you in every shadow, in every crowd. And these waves are my eyes, the rising and settling waves, which weep more often than not these days. Each tear, each wave whispers something in my ears-‘You’re gone, for better or for worse, but you’re definitely gone.’ These waves secretly wipe our names on the sand that we wrote together, the lyrics of the songs that we hummed together, and take the shells of our memories that we played with together from the shore.

I’m not happy, I’m not sad, I’m numb, just one of those I don’t care moods. These waves are taking the weights of my heart, the shells from this sand. At least, my waves won’t harm me, they’re loyal, and I know this.