ALONE – ‘its a feeling’

I should start by saying that being alone and feeling lonely are separated by one thing: your perception of the situation. Which, of course, can be changed, but most of the times is a subconscious decision that appears to be out of your control.

My own loneliness is a contradictory issue. I have to be alone, I need to be alone, and I love being alone. I can write, I can enjoy the silence for longer periods of time than almost anyone else I ever met. I can only find myself when I am all alone in a silent room. I go out with people, act silly and whatnot for a couple of hours, all the while longing to go back home and be all by myself. I’ve been at parties and wanted nothing more than to go home, where there’s no one waiting but the hope of finding myself again.

It feels like that: as if I am losing myself in the crowd. I am losing myself in the minds of other people.

But I also hate having only myself to come home to. I hate my own company, so to speak. I feel restless, insecure, and sad.

Truth be told, I wouldn’t have written a single word if I hadn’t felt lonely. Different. Unique in a “there’s a big wall between you and the rest of the world” sense of way. Some days I hate that about me. Some days I think it’s the best damn thing in the world. A true blessing. Some days I feel as if me being alone to write, me being able to be alone to write, is the most wonderful thing in the world. And I am happy and ecstatic to do nothing other than to write. Other days… I feel as if it’s all a necessary sacrifice; and there’s nothing noble about it either. It’s just something that I had to do, because I was too scared to do anything else.

One of the many things we don’t like to talk about is the fact that most of the time our feelings are out of our control. Because you are aware. You are staring out the window at the rain. There’s nothing else to do, and the fact that you are aware changes nothing. I am aware of how I feel, I am rationally aware (and intrigued in a way) of the fact that I shouldn’t feel the way that I do about what I am seeing out the window.

But I feel that way regardless of what I am aware of.

That makes us human. Our ability to feel. And our ability to rationalize, to dissect out thoughts and feelings like no other creature before us.

At the beginning of this post I wrote that our perception is the only thing that makes a difference between being alone and feeling lonely. I can only tell you about the way I perceive things when I feel lonely: I hate myself. Simple as that. I am self-conscious to such an extent that it makes me loathe almost everything about me. So I do feel lonely in a crowded place, among friends or family, or when I am all by myself. I hate my own company, even though I am, to a certain extent, aware of the fact that people feel and think otherwise. And when I feel that, there’s nothing they can say or do that can make me change how I feel.

Of course, I also feel the exact opposite. I find myself to be good company to others, I find myself to be good company to my own self. I feel great. And it’s like I am different person then.

That is the simple and heartbreaking truth of our existence: we don’t get to choose how we feel.

What I’m really trying to say is this: there’s no point in fighting it. What you feel. There’s no point in denying it either. It just doesn’t work that way. You have to accept it. I feel the way that I feel, and it’s going to last for as long as it has to.

Staring out the window at the rain… it might seem as if the sun will never come out again.

But it does. Sooner or later. It does. Always

It feels amazing

It feels good… when you realize that your whole life, whatever you did, was a big lie and you don’t have to do it anymore..!!

It feels good… when you’re lying on the grass with someone really close gazing at the sky for hours..!!

It feels good… when you, for the first time, forget about your past and your future and suddenly realise you’ve found peace within yourself for that moment and that is precious for you..!!

It feels good… when you realize that life is more than just finding love, being in relationship or getting married (For me, at times it’s just being my own self for a while)..!!

It feels good… when you finally believe in yourself, realising that you’re not bothered by the false interpretation of the world..!!

It feels good… to take a walk along a beach and feel that fresh, moisturous breeze against your skin and realize you’re not dead yet, there’s still hope residing inside you..!!

It feels good… to perform a good deed like helping the poor, feeding the hungry..!!

It feels good… to watch the innocence of an infant..!!

It feels good… when you’re ready to sell your soul to devil for just a single mesmerising smile on your loved one’s face..!!

It feels good… to lay down on your bed for sleep without any worries, and you don’t have to think about tomorrow..!!

It feels good… to wake up next to someone you wanna spend your whole life with..!!

It feels good… when you realise that the whole universe is within you and you are the whole universe..!! (At least for your own self)

It feels good… when you realise why you were actually born, why you were sent to this planet..!! (There’s still something you need to fulfill)

It’s pretty amazing to feel things deeply, no matter how pleasant or bizarre they are..!!

It feels good… when you realise that you’re not here for yourself but to help others, to show them the correct path, to lead their conscience to salvation..!!

& it Actually Feels Good to be your own self for a period of time!!!

© Hardik

That is living.

Think, speak, what you like

There is no one who needs to be satisfied

Do not be like a leaf, moved here and there by the wind

Cry, fight, laugh till you have lost your very self

Love, suffer, endure, like there is no tomorrow

That is living

Dream of that which was ours

Ardent love kindled as flames of passion

Beauty of freshness a silent imagining

Hold on to your cravings, let them get ignited

Or dampened like the waves, that crashed on the way

That is living

Always keep walking straight ahead

Even if you have to suffer endlessly

Be like a rock, unaffected by gales and storms

And sometimes you win, sometimes you lose

A roller-coaster ride that is for sure………….

That is living


live life to the fullest, make a difference along the way.


Hi. I’m back. Did you think you would get rid of me so easily? Think again. 

I’ll keep hiding behind your smile, lurking beneath your laughter, smirking as you think I’m gone.

I’ll crawl into the innermost secrets in your mind, and release it all again and again for you to drown in.

You are mine, and I will not let go of you.

I will ruin your will to live. I will make you disinterested with everything you used to love. I will drag you down to the depths of darkness where no one will find you.

I will destroy you.

And people won’t know what hit you. ‘Cause I’ll always be unseen.


What if depression was a person? Would we know how to avoid him? Would we know how to recognize him? Or her?

Would we listen to depression’s lies that we’re not good enough? Would we let it punch us in the face repeatedly with past hurts? Would we let it win?

We shouldn’t, and you won’t.

You’re here today because you’re stronger than what you think.

You are more capable than what you have been led to believe.

Depression speaks, but you will not listen. Not this time. Not anymore.

You will overcome.

Reading some of the people

what about the people you come across everyday? Do you care to pause and guess their story? How much do you decipher about their life from what you see?

I saw this man, elderly, in the dining hall of the hotel i was staying in. I was there for complimentary breakfast; I assumed he was there for the same too. Plain, nothing mystical about his appearance or behaviour. He was with this woman, almost half of his age, could be his daughter, could be anyone else, no one knows. She had an American accent, so much that even her Bengali sounded a lot like English. He sat there, in the table at the corner of the room, ordering food he’ll probably never finish. What distinguished him from what my mind thinks inn plain, is that for the three days that i saw him, I noticed he always avoids sitting on the seat that faces the window. “You know i get uncomfortable when i face the window”, he says to the woman he’s with. Why i never knew and probably never will.

The little girl in the metro, jumping along with her father, probably on the way home from a half in playschool. Innocent, unaware of how fast life sometimes gets, so much that no amount of painting can catch up to its pace. But she’s happy, even in the crowd, she has her father’s hand to hold, and what else does a girl of five need?

The Sardar uncle from the grocery store, one side of his spectacle frame is broken, he hasn’t fixed it yet. Probably earns just enough to maintain his family, after all the debts that people take and all the bills that need to be paid. Maybe fixing the broken frame is a luxury, not qualified as a necessity yet, probably will never be. Yet he smiles at anyone who stops by at his shop, adjusting his spectacles like they’re windows to the world outside.

The lady sitting next to me in the e-rickshaw, talking on the phone to someone about taking a half day on Saturday because it’s Holi. Who doesn’t like a day off from work and spend some quality time with their family? I think she’ll ask her seniors at the office. I hope they give her a holiday.

People are so interesting, with their never ending stories and intricacies.

I am glad to read some of them.

The inside story

I like the beginning things on random notes, so no matter how often someone tells me to clear the mess on my bed, I’d probably tell them why the Sherlock poster right on the next wall is my favourite.

Let’s meet someday, and I’ll tell you about things i like and other things i find beautiful and the thin line of difference between both. I’ll tell you that i think pregnant women look divinely beautiful and that flowers look better in a garden than in the bouquet.

Sometimes, i wonder if i left traces of myself in people, would the person in the mirror look hollow? I think  of lovers that don’t exist, the kind who’d have let me plant flowers on their tongue so that every time i wish to pluck a rose, i could kiss them instead. But they’re there only in my head, immaterial, like conversations that didn’t happen or like the dead cells on the mosaic floor.

It’s a little funny how almost always is backed up by the guilt of some kind , that in times when people around are mourning, all you can think of is the reasons how you could probably have let something not happen. But there it stays, like a piece of metal tied to your chest, dragging you down every time you try to breathe

And just because i can’t sum a lot of things in words, I just as might tell you, I like random endings too.

To the Home

Looking at the calendar

Counting the number of days left!

In a daze thinking about the good time, you spent with your loved ones.

Living the passion of your life in an unknown land.

Packing tales and goods to share with your comfortable clan.

Just wondering HOW many dreams and memories do the trains, buses and flights, carry on every Friday evenings.

The finite journey to experience infinite love.

As we grow up, we realise,

Vacations are not the ones that we planned during our school days to Goa, Some hills, or Somewhere abroad.

It’s all about going back to the place where we’ve spent most of our childhood.

That feel of being grounded to nativity, seated next to the window in a moving train as scenes through it pass slowly;

You look into your phone and smile, as the roaming symbol migrates from the first sim slot to the second sim.

The moderate warm wind soothes your face, and your favourite language is all that you hear.

The big green name board welcomes you.                                                                                     Finally, home is here.