LiFe In TwO WOrLdS

"I know these will all be stories someday. And our pictures will become old photographs. We'll all become somebody's mom or dad. But right now these moments are not stories. This is happening. I am here and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you're not a sad story. You are alive, and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you're listening to that song and that drive with the people you love most in this world. And in this moment I swear, we are infinite." I have read the following somewhere in  a novel , Bill : We accept the love we think we deserve. Charlie : Can we make them know they deserve more? Bill : We can try. I don't know what I am writing or why I am writing but does it matter. Does it matter if no-one gets it except you.Ironically I don't know who you are,where you are or are you even there ?. Its just faith, like the

Samosa : nothing's better than those samosa chats with sprinkles of chopped onions and coriander leaves.especially of those movable cart and old canopies.  Only  mom made cakes : From chocolate to vanilla cakes made by mom in that 20 yr old oven ( especially in that 20 yr old oven).     Those unnamed paneer dished which are the outcome of mom's experiments in kitchen. The butter chicken of sagar restaurant Calicut (only with those freshly baked ,crispy kerala parathas.) for a spontaneous journey with only few of my awesome buddies  .    having a window seat in a bus or train, looking out at the setting sun.    for an awesome conversation with a stranger girl (preferably with spectacles and holding a book and intrusive)  on a journey.  getting high and doing shit with friends.  a compelling and suffocating urge to write something ,anything !.  running and dancing like a  lunatic in the rain ,not bothered by what others will think. a campus walk at