According to the english dictionary a boy is described as a young male human and a girl is described as a young female human.

Not much difference eh?

Then why do boys are automatically considered strong and women fragile as soon as they are born.

Boys are as much human as girls. They have as much right to feel and express as girls.

To all the boys out there, it’s ok if you cry for your long lost love.  It’s ok if you feel hundred emotions all at once. It’s okay if your heart is made of gold and glass mixed together and if it has a label called ‘fragile’.

It’s okay if you like makeup even if you’re not gay and it’s okay even if you are one.  It’s ok if you want to cuddle and want to be held. It’s okay if you’re not afraid of commitment and wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s okay to feel, express and feel some more. Boys do cry and boys do feel. Boys do suffer and they have there own set of problems. For so long there has been a spurious portrayal of the ideal man as someone with super strength who is worthy of pushing and beating people around, but it’s okay if you are skinny and it’s also okay if you are muscular. As long as you love yourself and accept yourself it’s all okay.

Just break the stereotypes and understand that boys are nothing but humans and they are capable of feeling too. So stop telling them to ‘be a man’ because being a man means whoever the hell they want to be.

Cheating is NOT ok.

Being cheated feels like you were just not enough. It feels like to be so broken that even gathering your pieces doesn’t seem worth it. Because he chose someone else over you. Someone who could give him more than you could give him. Who took his breath away and stole his heart while you were still claiming to have it. It feels like you are doing it all wrong. It feels like you don’t deserve anyone and you don’t deserve to be loved. But it’s not. It’s not your fault it’s his. He couldn’t see the light in you. The time will come when you will find the one who will appreciate the way your laugh lights up the whole room. The way you talk and never seem to stop. The way you make animated gestures and get all excited when you describe something you love. He is out there. Somewhere. Waiting for you. So don’t measure your worth with that one heart break because heartbreaks don’t measure you they create you.


It’s okay to engage in self love  for one day. Its not being selfish it’s about loving every atom every pore of your soul and listening to its wants. Just let your heart rule over your brain. Colour that plain wall you’ve been staring for a while with all colours vibrant. Make a painting which doesn’t make any sense. Eat all the high calorie foods you’ve been avoiding, Go out and confess your love to that person who you’ve been watching since forever. Go out and visit that place you’ve been watching on your phone . don’t hesitate to let your heart rule over your brain. Learn that song on your guitar which you have been just dying to play , feel your fingers move along the rhythm!   Cook that special, extra time consuming dish you’ve been avoiding just because you are busy. It’s ok to have some time to yourself. It’s ok to want to be alone. Healing takes time it takes effort. Learn the art of doing nothing. Instead of thinking of all the things you have to do , do the things you want to do. Healing is a process, it’s a choice. It’s okay to be a little broken sometimes , it’s okay to be vulnerable. Just give yourself some time. Treat yourself as you would treat your most beloved person. For once, just once, forget that other people exist and focus on yourself focus on what you think, focus on what you want, because it’s okay to be normal it’s okay to be human.


I woke up I’m the middle of night . I don’t know what woke me up at this odd time of 3:06 . my mouth was unreasonably dry . I pushed the heavy blanket aside and put my feet down , the coldness from the floor ran a shiver down my spine. The hair on my arms rose because of the cold.

I made my way downstairs and opened the fridge, the dim light coming from it lit the kitchen as much as possible. Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck rose again; this time it was not from the cold. Someone was watching me, as if on cue I heard a sound from the living room. I froze. There is certainly someone in the house. I tried to look through the darkness and saw a silhouette of a man . my heartbeat rose to million beats per second. With the heavy thudding in my chest I started walking towards the shadow, I had a knife in my hand, ready to attack at any moment.

“Where is my damn cellphone?” I cursed. I walked towards the light switch and flicked it on. There stood a man in the center of the living room. He looked clearly shocked. Well, so was I .

“John what are you doing here? When did you return? You surprised me!”. I said with an amused tone.

I took his hand and dragged him to our room . “come and sleep now” I said.

“Whoa! Woman I don’t even know you! Get off me! ” he said with a confused expression.

“John, what are you saying?”

“I ain’t no john lady! Let me go!”

“Then who are you?” I was so mad at him now .

He just stood there in silence .

“See, you’re my John” I said triumphantly.

“No! I’m a thief okay!? I was here to steal! Just don’t call the police please! Ill just leave. He said with animated gestures.

“John why are you doing this?”

“Oh god ! Are u crazy?”

“You are John! My husband!”

“Woah! I’m just going to leave now!” He starts to walk away from me, the pain comes rushing back again.

“You’re not leaving me! You can’t! Not again!”. I shouted with tears in my eyes.

I was a mess , my heart was aching so much that it was almost physical. He was out of the room by now.

I couldn’t think of a way to stop him so I picked up the heavy vase and hit him with all the might I had in me.

“Aahh!” He yelled.

Blood was oozing out of his head like grains escaping from a hole in the sack. He fell on the floor with a thud. He was long gone now. “Oh John. I’m so sorry. But you just won’t stop! If you would only listen! You never listen.”

Sighing I dragged his body to the store room, I opened the lock and threw his body inside.

“Sorry John. I told you to stay but you didn’t. Now you don’t have a choice.”

Locking the door again the count increased.

“Fifty-six” I counted.

“Men never listen” I sighed.

Battle scars.

There was this girl.
The girl who aspired to be an IPS officer.
The girl who was brave.
The girl who wanted to make a change.
Wearing a new suit the girl went to college,
Little did she know that not only will she grab the attention of her friends but also of some hooligans, who slowly and leisurely stripped her naked in their minds. Who shamelessly called her names that made her teeth grind.
The new suit was now a heavy weight on her;
All she wanted was to quit and run,
But she was a brave girl.
That moment she decided and turned.
A slap on the face will do them good, She thought.
Little did she know it will make her a victim of an evil plot.
As she was returning home, the crime happened;
All her dreams and aspirations now dampened.
What kind of thought process it is?
How in her immense pain they can find bliss?
Yes it was an acid attack case yet again.
Her excitement and happiness turned into excruciating pain.
The acid not only damage her beauty
It damaged her soul too.
Why don’t they understand that she had a life too.?
Then came the social stigma, instead of the culprits the girl was condemned, to me this mentality is still an enigma.
Why are the culprits not in jail?
Why only after a few relaxing days they got an immediate bail?
Why the girl is not socially fit to live in the society?
But the criminals are living freely without any anxiety?
When will this mentality change? when will a girl’s body not looked upon as a game?
This mentality and culprits will finally be behind bars only when the girl’s wounds will be looked upon as battle scars.

It can’t be true.

“Congratulations! You’re pregnant.”
It cant be true. I thought
Congratulations seemed an ironic word at that time .
It can’t be true
“What are we gonna do?” I ask fidgeting with the hem of my skirt.
“We? He said. It’s your child.”
“What Do you mean?” My whole world was spinning. It can’t be true.
“Its your child too.”
“Who knows?”
My hands stopped fidgeting.
“What are you saying!” Tears strolled down my cheeks involuntarily.
“Why are you doing this!” My voice cane out with a crack .
It can’t be true.
“Look I can’t own this child… I have ambitions an…and goals.” He said running a hand through his dirty blonde hair.
“What about my ambitions and goals? Didn’t you think about that when you were peeling off the clothes from my body?”
“I know. That’s why I am saying. Get an abortion. It best for both of us.”
And with that he left . leaving me in the eye of the tornado to struggle alone to get out of it.
“It can’t be true.”
This was all I could think.
I went home.
I took a long cold shower which surprisingly made me even more exhausted.
I looked at myself in the mirror
My long hair cascading down till me hips. I pushed them back and took a look at my stomach.
The feeling of having another being in it scared me.
‘It can’t be true.’ I was constantly thinking this.
“I’m not ready. Maybe he’s right. Abortion is the answer. ” I thought exhausted
“No! How can he be right? He betrayed me!” The anger resurfaced again.
I touched my stomach. Somehow it felt like it didn’t belong to me anymore. I was sharing it with another living thing now.
It can’t be true
I wrapped a towel around myself and entered my room
My phone rang. Displaying a pic of me and him laughing . Memories flashed through my mind wrecking it. We had so much fun that day.
It can’t be true.
Tears strolled down my cheeks again, contrastingly feeling hot against my cold skin.
“I can’t do this! I don’t have job ! I don’t have money! I’m alone!
I’m not ready to bear this pain yet!”
My heavy thoughts pushed me backwards into my bed . I lay there motionless, staring at the grey ceiling. How ironic ! Grey ceiling for a grey life!” I laughed bitterly at my own state.
“I will get an abortion.”
Somehow this thought made me feel like a murderer. “I’m not a murderer. I can’t do this. This is my child. I can’t kill it. With him or without him I’m gonna raise my baby. Yes its my baby.” Surprisingly this thought sounded right in my mind. It gave me a sense of power and control. I had made my decision. No power on earth could reverse it now.
Its been 17 years since.
Adrian is standing on the stage with the national award in her hands. Her wide grin spreading till my proud smile. She is being awarded for some scientific breakthrough which I don’t understand. You see I was always bad at science . she descended the stage and everybody is still applauding.
She hugged me and handed her big glistening trophy to me. “This is for you ma” she smiled.
After all these years the thought crept back in. “It can’t be true”
I whispered.
The only difference was that this time I got an answer.
“No ma its true. I love you so much! and its only and only because of you that I got this! Its yours! I’m yours!”
These words made me so happy. They felt like warm blanket on a winter night. All my fears, all my uncertainties vanished into thin air.
That time I realized, that she is my baby. Only mine.
After all being a single mother has its own perks.

How to get through Teenage. (1 min read) — The Millionaire’s Digest

Written by Millionaire’s Digest Team Member: Mehar Malhotra Founder & Owner of: Radiant Thoughts Millionaire’s Digest Team, Contributor, Family & Life Writer This post is about teenagers and their baffling journey. Why is it that with every good thing comes its price? Why is it that every coin has two sides? The most confusing age i.e between childhood and adulthood,

The cursed time called teenage.
For some “the most beautiful time of life” ;
For some ” the time for making the most important decisions”.
Why is that with the excitement of teenage comes the heavy burden of decisions?
Why is that with happiness for every new found talent of ourselves comes the baffling identity crisis?
Why is that with the sweet feeling of young love comes the feeling of heartbreak?
Why is that with the new feeling of exploring comes heavy responsibilities to fulfill?
Why is that with hope comes high expectations which we cannot fulfill?
Why is that with every good intention comes the bag of mistakes too?
Why is that teenage is the sweetest yet the most difficult time of our lives.
Why can’t for once it be good without any stress, any mistakes, any regrets for wrong decisions.
So if this is called the most beautiful time of one’s life there must be a reason. Make it happen!
Live it to the fullest! Let yourself free!
So let your soul be euphoric and let it soar high and high!
So write your destiny with the most vibrant colours you can find!
So live your life, so laugh at things and make people laugh. So fall in love and have no fear. Because if everything comes with a price, why focus on the price? Just go with the flow and make the best experience with the bemusing time called teenage. via How to get through Teenage. (1 min read) — The Millionaire’s Digest

Just not enough.

16216523-Relaxation-on-beach-detail-of-male-feet-Stock-Photo-footI’m just not enough.
I’m that spot on which the feet resides on the sandy beach and the waves return without touching the feet.
I’m the estimated value after the decimal, which is just not accurate.
I’m that wallflower which neither blooms nor dies.
I’m 99 and 101, but not what’s in the middle.
I’m euphoria and depression, but not what’s normal.
I’m the dent on the smooth steel hood.
I’m the disfigured figure in between the perfectly synchronized patterns.
I’m the spot on the beach where the sun never shines.
I’m the crook in the perfectly winged eyeliner.
I’m the black spot on the colourful bandanna.
I’m the cinnamon role without the cinnamon.
I’m different , I’m not perfect, and I’m most certainly just not enough.