People Who Make Sense

Warning: This one, comes with lot of commas. Pause there, and then proceed.


‘Completeness’ is not an everyday feeling or may be it does not even qualify as a considerate feeling. Completeness is a temporal expression and it would lose its essence if so not the case. Let’s ask this question ‘Is anything in life ever complete?’ Let’s just leave it there hanging as any further exploration would still be incomplete.

We are not meant to make sense in every universe all the time. A leap of faith longish conversation might be totally a load of crap to the third. Though we paint the picture of everyday life with varying emotions, they seem stupid the very next day.  In an optional debate where we can agree to disagree, let’s pick and point something in specific.

In the random weird world where most times are lethargic and lackluster circumstances, the shoes always mismatch. Sometimes it’s the sock. Then there is tie as well. Handkerchief might be missing or the top is too tight or the color isn’t just right. Like said, we are not meant to make sense all the time.  

Who does? Who makes sense? Who ‘makes’ sense? Or who makes ‘sense’? Making sense is somewhere somewhat associated to completeness. This completeness does not come easily from within. It mostly is an effect and affect from the surrounding we have built. Those we have prioritized. Those, whose words we have made influence our life.

Who make sense,
Hold your hand,
Take through the path,
Where thus far you felt,
You walked alone.

People who make sense are seldom found in our zone of comfort. They are ‘by and large’ randomly shuffled along the corners of the world where we are never expected to look over.

*  *  *  *  *

A meet with the most comforting person, where you barely spoke, still gives the utmost satisfaction; they are the people who make sense. A friend with whom you continue a conversation effortlessly that started months ago; they are the people who make sense. A busy friend, who manages time to talk to you, is the one who makes sense. The one, who understands the words the way you mean it, without being explained, is the one who makes sense.

That one friend, who knows that there is nothing called bandwidth that needs to match, is the person who makes sense. That one conversation where you talk things where they don’t look related to others but you make a perfect sense out of it, is the person who makes sense. The one whom you can trust even with the dark shadow of theirs is the one makes sense. The one who promises to make it, though they know they can’t and still tries to their every best to keep it, is the one who makes sense. That one, who thinks of you in every happiness and otherwise is the one who makes sense. The person who makes sense is the one who knows the real meaning of life and they help in defining it and without them, the definition is never complete. Those, who go beyond priority, they are the ones who make sense. They don’t stand with you for benefits, but instead they stand with you because that makes sense to them.

It will make sense when you know the quality of work is the one that matters the most and everything else is artificial. Nothing is built by only accumulating. It also has a falling downside. Things will make sense when you easily let go the fall-down side. It is sensible enough to know that there are fools around. It makes sense when you know that work place is a work place and give it the appropriate space. It makes sense when you know how expectation works. It makes sense to sit alone at times and think of nothing, still meaning everything to you. It makes sense to be neglected. It makes sense to be mocked. It makes sense to put something which makes sense only to you. It makes sense to ignore the judgemental thoughts. It makes sense to be in the race and run it like you always wished for. It makes sense to give up, never turn back and walk away. It makes sense to step for right.


With a presentation of incomplete list, how much of sense do I make?


Being Home


Values build career,
Virtues build personality,
Noble begets noble,
Will lead you home.

Effort defines work,
Dedication defines growth,
Hope begets hope,
Will lead you home.

Trust thyself,
Trust thy instincts,
My dear friend,
Even darkness,
Will lead you home.

Impatient Me

Indian Bloggers


There was no magic,
It was just a tragic,
Stumbled over a hurdle,
Then it there repeats,
Deep it then sinks,
Plans to overwrite my existence,
But hey,
I hate to see myself so,
Impatient me!

My roots have been shaken,
Body shattered,
My boots have been lost,
Legs falling apart,
But I will stand still,
Bury my roots again,
Stand like never before,
I don’t like lukewarm,
Impatient me!

Pathetic time was mine,
Body cries was nine,
Shivering over the nights,
Waiting for the bright,
My shoulders need me,
My will power calls me,
I am going to shine again,
Trust me,
I am Impatient!

Note: This poem is an extract from my work-in-progress novel where the character is looking for self motivation after a set of horrible life events. 

Mind the Gap

Indian Bloggers

This post is written for the Discover Challenge: Mind the Gap. The distance between idea and execution can be a source of frustration — or of inspiration.


My Dear Discarded,

I have this idea of creating a mini world for myself where things of my wishes and will stay in it and superfluous stay far away from the boundaries. I have such a frontier that I can see the unwanted and even listen to them. But I am at a safer distance where I pretend to show my presence but cleverly avoid from spoiling my aura.

Sometimes they cross the boundaries and creep in. I stand looking at in disgust and not taking any action. I have taken action earlier and I have learnt that it has not helped in making things better. No matter what I say, my discarded takes the negative sense of it and beats the crap of my positive ideals. Now knowing that, I prefer to take the pain for few days silently than to argue against it. At times I am considered as weak because I take no action. That is also a pain which I need to bear for being calm.

My discarded just don’t allow me to create and live in my ideal world. I have been building my walls stronger.  At times I get tired of looking for positive in everything I see. It strains me. But I don’t lose my hopes that easy. I do my best and try to find even a tiny minuscule of positive energy in my Discarded.

Then I get reminded of one of the classical sociological theory. A society can prosper only and also because there are bullies in it. If you dirty my walls, I am going to clean it. Sometimes I feel I should paint my walls black. But with that I understand that I darken my environment as well. That makes me prefer white and a regular clean.

I know my ideal world is far far away in reality and by that I am not going to accept the defeat. I realize that sometimes I need to fight back. Keeping quite has lead to many creepers spread the wall. I do my fight and just can’t get away with it. I face the consequences. I make a mess out of myself. Then I don’t fail to see the beauty in it. I realize if the fight was worth, then there was nothing wrong in going for it.  Some fights are intellectual. They always yield better results and burn the Discarded the best way. My strive for that will always be affirmative. Peace.

Yours faithfully,
Faith with Common Sense.

Night Follows The Day


Like wrong people can always be,
An inspiration to do the right,
From Gray to Black,
You will find the White!

A little comes with another little,
To show what is more.
Do not count the number,
For 99 is also a score!

Be not sad, if the day is slow!
Feel not bad, if you feel the low!
For Every “Today Calls a Better Tomorrow!”
That’s it.
There you smile!