How to love a girl who can’t love herself.


When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.


On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.


Don’t let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says “I think I’m broken” smile like you
know a secret and say, “No, you’re mending.”
But do not be the one to fix her – no, she
must be the one to do it herself, and you
merely are there to quietly encourage her.


Read her poetry (even if you are
not a poet), the kind that uses
flowery words and compares girls to
the moon; the kind that you will
rewrite for her. Make her a warrior.
Make her a goddess with eyes like a
wolf’s and a smile like a tiger’s.


Laugh with her the first thing in
the morning and the last thing before
you fall asleep. Tell her cheap puns
that you’ve been thinking of for weeks.
And when she smiles – the type of smile
that could bring you to your knees if
you aren’t careful – know that for the
moment, she’s yours. She is whole.


Love her. Love her like a fish loves
the sea or a bird loves the sky. Love
her in the way that your heart feels like
it’s going to burst at any moment every
time it beats. Love her skin and the way
it feels against your own, soft and warm
and utterly flawless. Love her for the way
her voice trembles when she can’t keep it
together anymore and love her when she
holds onto you as if you were the only
thing that was keeping her alive.


Love her, because some days she just can’t do it herself.



Sitting here
Takes the time away.
And as time slips, I focus,
Only to become lost in thought.

I cherish this moment,
Steeped in blissful quiescence.
For at this time,
I am not weighed by labels.

At this time,
I am neither student nor boyfriend
Nor the son of my parents, nor Indian
I am human, I am alive.

Reality pervades in intervals, though.
Bringing with it the sum of my problems.
In waves of fractured glass, I am submerged,
Immersed in reflections
And for those moments
I merely exist among myself.

But like the ocean, reality recedes
I stare as it makes its way back into its crevice
As a result, reality becomes clear
I become filled with understanding.

Beginning to lose focus,
Slipping back into objectivity.
As tenses begin to make sense
I tense and assume the proper pretense

Until the next moment comes.reader_by_ka_92-d4qvxtr


The story of the Goat who Gets the Gold

The story of the Goat who Gets the Gold


Authors: Gunjan Vyas,Madhu Kalyan

It was a quiet day in Tambola. A boar, a horse, and a goat were investigating a patch of grass. An elderly man was tending to the saloon when a wandering gunslinger made his way into the new town.

The man had been on the trail for a long time, and was looking for a saloon to quench his thirst. As he strolled down the road, he passed the animals and a community board. He took a moment to read a few of the posted notices, giving little attention to the critters and their grazing although he did notice what an odd grouping they made.

He may not have had much interest in the temporary herd… But they had taken interest in him. The goat and horse had been discussing ‘two leggers’, and why they tie things onto horses. This caused the goat to feel a bit nervous and curious when the gunslinger passed by them.

The goat turned to sniff the gunslinger. When she noticed the leather lacings hanging from his gun holsters, she became focused on these simple things. She started to walk towards the man but stopped since she was still a bit weary.

The gunslinger turned from reading the notices on the board when he heard the goat’s hoof steps behind him. He turned to see the little goat.

“Hi, goat.” he said.

“Baa,” was the reply he got.

“Did you want something, little one?” he asked the creature.

“Baa,” which is goat for ‘hello’ was the reply.

“Now I know I’ve been on the trail too long, I’m beginning to talk to goats,” he mused to himself and turned his attention back to the community board.

The thought that this human might be a friendly sort, the goat approached further. An idea was forming in her mind. Might she be quick enough to try and steal one of the lacing  She got to within a foot of the man, studying the leather straps.

Hearing the hooves again, he turned and glanced back at the goat. Trying to figure out what the small animal was doing, becoming suspicious as it inched closer.

Meanwhile the goat was formulating a complicated snatch and grab maneuver. Starting her daring feat, she moved to stand near the saloon porch. Not noticing that the gunslinger was now watching her, she kicked her back hooves on the dirt, getting ready to run.

The man bent down to investigate the goat. When he was half bent over, the lacings became within grabbing distance of the goat. She decided the time was perfect to make her attempt. In a flash of brown fur, she charged at him. Jumper up, bit off one of the leather straps. Then bounding off the gunslinger’s leg, she had accomplished her goal. Proudly she waved the lacing in victory.

The man was taken back by what had just transpired between the two of them. He just stood there and replayed the incident, trying to get a hang of it. Looking down at the goat, he realized what it had done.

“Why you little…” He grumbled and raised his fist in frustration.

His ego a bit bruised at having a goat pilfer one of his holster straps, he hurriedly tried to snatch it back from the nearby beast.

The goat was startled by the man’s lunge, and leaped clear. A few more attempts to get the lacing back, were made, but all ended in failure. The little goat was becoming quite brazen – this man seemed like a small challenge for her nimble hooves.

Becoming frustrated, the man drew out his pistol. He took a shot at the point near to the goat’s hooves. Hearing the loud sound, the goat hit him in the knees with her horns. This tripped him, and he fell to the ground. While he was trying to further shoot at the thieving animal. Two shots left the guns, as the man headed for the dusty ground. One lodged in the overhang of the saloon. The other ricocheted off the dirt, and ended up in the notice board.

The man was becoming very flustered by the actions of the mischievous hoofed bandit. He returned to his feet, and stared down at the furry little one. His mind becoming focused on regaining his now half eaten bit of leather.

The elderly gent in the saloon, had not yet taken notice of this little drama. The boar had since moved off, to paths unknown while the horse had been watching and cheering. Offering whinnies and calls for the victorious brown, leather snatcher.

Soon the gunslinger and goat were once again launching themselves past each other. One trying to capture, the other escaping. At one point, the little goat dashed under the porch planks, just out of the man’s reach. Poking her head out now and again,  she teased the human with his own leather.

While under the porch, she tripped on a small pouch and bent down to investigate. She picked it up, and while the man was catching his breath. She took the pouch onto the porch. She sat down, and while still holding the strip of leather, tried to rip open the pouch.

She became intent upon it and very curious about its contents.

So hypnotized was she by it, that she didn’t see the man coming closer to her with a most unfriendly look on his dust covered face. He slowly snuck up, and when close enough, he grabbed for the pilfered strap seizing it in luscious triumph.

At that same moment, the goat had worked a hole into the pouch. When the man yanked the leather from the jaws of the bothersome animal, three small shiny yellow nuggets fell from the bag plunking neatly onto the wood deck.

Both characters stopped their pursuits to take a moment’s notice of this. The eyes of the man widened, as he recognized the golden stone. The nostrils of the goat flared, at this new questioning thing. The two then looked at each other, and the goat leaped back with the bag of nuggets tightly held in her mouth, when she realized how close the human had come.

In the distance, the horse had found much enjoyment in watching these two combatants but was now tired and had pandered off to his stall. In the saloon, the aged barkeep was entertaining a local doctor. They were discussing marital relations, and bovine acquisitions, giving little, if any, notice to the drama just outside. A bleat from the goat did prompt a moments pause in the conversation, querying as to whether there was a sheep herder in town but the two soon continued on their previous topics.

Returning to the event on the porch, Our gunslinger was now down on one knee. Tentatively holding out the now drool and dust covered bit of leather trying to entice the goat, hoping to gain the bag of found stones. The goat, still very attached to it’s new treasure, turned, and let out an ill wind, pointedly refusing the offer.

“Come on. You wanted this, right?” tempted the gunslinger.

“Baa.” and a bit of gas, was the refused response.

“Well, I never..” exclaimed insulted human.

He made a grab for the legs of the critter. Successful, he pulled the hide legs till his arms were wrapped around the animal’s middle. The wriggling creature managed to twist, and with one good kick. She got herself free, and left a neat hoof print smack in the middle of the gunslinger’s forehead.

The goat, still in possession of the gold, made her way further down the saloon porch. She was now within range of the swinging doors. As the disheveled and insulted gunslinger rushed for the goat. She darted under the doors of the saloon, and hid under a table.

Panting, she was very nervous, shaking under her table. For now she wasn’t just hiding from the gunslinger. She was hiding from the barkeep. She knew if she stayed here too long. She might end up in a stew.

The gunslinger, with guns drawn once more, seemingly very determined to get the goat, or the gold, entered into the saloon. He peered into the establishment eagerly for his target.

The two men at the bar, had finally taken notice of the little event. They turned their attention to the gunslinger, and questioned his poised pistols.

The gunslinger realized where it was he found himself. Feeling suddenly tired from the taunting of the furry thief, he remembered that it was a saloon that he wanted, before this predicament began. So taking stock of the two others, he put away his guns, and bellied up to the bar.

The goat steadied herself, seizing her opportunity for freedom, dashed back under the doors. She quietly listened through a window, to make sure she was safe. For indeed she was, she could hear the three men begin a conversation.

Thus confident in her defeat of the gunslinger, she trots off, holding the pouch of high. For the Goat had Got away with the Gold.


Life, what is it? Why are we here? What is the reason we are here, on earth? If you think about it, there is no reason. Is there?

Us humans, beautiful but yet disgusting. We are good looking, nice and kind. That’s what we all seem to be, but everyone has a dark side. No matter how nice and kind, we all have it, crawling deep inside us.

Demons. Demons is what we call them, but its not demons. Humans kill, rape, harm, and start wars. Demons are what we call each other, and to afraid to admit that we all are like that some way or another.


They say Earth is dying, if humans weren’t alive the Earth wound be just fine. Animals wouldn’t be dying out and they would be free. Not many people realize this, but think about this, its true.

Many pray to who ever the pray to, praying that everything will be fine. Many are thinking the police will help, and life will go on like normal. No, if there was no good, then there would be no evil. Do you understand? If you don’t, that’s fine, not every one does.

Still, I’m wondering, why is there life? We aren’t worthy of it. Beaning the evil things we are. Dark thoughts filling our minds. All about murder or lust and everything else horrid.

If you think you’re not dark and evil, think again. Go into your mind, can you see it?  Crawling around, gross looking, your worst fears and thoughts come together. Yeah, its there. In dreams, in your mind, and sometimes, in your actions.

Some give in to their dark thoughts. Some think them, but don’t give in. And then there is the some who don’t realize the thoughts, or don’t admit them.


Don’t say someone is controlling your thoughts. We all have them at some point in time. Its only a matter of time before we all give in to these thoughts.

Who knows, maybe life is some sick game created by God himself.

Please Pray – Bomb Blast in Hyderabad

And yet again those who feast on the pain and agony of others find themselves pleasure again!

Today! those who think it is their right to decide whats right and who’s bad, are dancing seeing the innocent in pain!

Please pray! please pray for peace… Lets just put aside our differences and just keep in mind that we are all human beings, and let us pray let us hope that there be peace! there be serenity soon again…

for these animals don’t represent any race, for these animals don’t represent any religion… there doing what they do for power and disarray…

so let us stand together and pray… lets just forgive and pray!

Little voice in your head?

All human beings have a little voice in their head that tells them what to do and usually it’s wrong. Like all of us, we don’t follow our hearts or guts, we keep listening to the little voice and we end up doing something wrong that it’s so hard to get out of. When the day comes that we actually want to listen to our hearts, the little voice turns to you and say: ‘NO, you can’t do it, you won’t be able to handle it, or you will never achieve it.’


Well, I have one of those little voices in my head telling me what to do and I actually have a conversation with it in my head and it really makes me angry and frustrated. I feel like it brings me too many problems and negative thoughts, and I hate its constant cocky attitude and telling me what to do.

I know what some of you will say, that it’s just my brain and that I’m making this entirely up. Well, I’m not and we all have the little voice, just some are not aware of it. It’s our conscience, our moral compass; it provides encouragement and words of warning. Some voices are quiet and only pop up when needed. Others are blabbermouths who never seem to ever shut up.

My little voice is quite a chatty one. Always going on and on about things, over thinking things, over analyzing  self-conscious, and second guessing. Recently, the little voice has become worse like it’s been on overdrive. Stress makes it even worse, because being busy with my PGDM(MBA)studies, working in between, having awful loads of work to be done, stress builds up. When I’m busy with a tech stuff, the little voice will continue to bother me. It will keep me out of my work, telling me ‘you are tired, leave the stuff for tomorrow’ or ‘no, the stuff is not up to standard, do it better.’

I know that I’m not alone. There are plenty of people who have a little voice shouting somewhere in their heads. Many people struggle with their little voice, which ends up in depression, anxiety, anger, frustration and many other things. Just to let you know, you are stronger than you think and you should take charge of your own life. One of the best quotes that I found was: “You’ll probably never have a completely quiet mind, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t have a quieter mind.” By taking charge of your own life and doing things your way, you can tell the little voice to shut up.

As I was writing this, my little voice was second guessing me whether I should publish this post onto my blog or not. I’m thinking of what other people might think of this post, will they like it, what type of comments will they leave? Gosh, just shut up little voice and click the publish button.