top of page
  • Writer's pictureMadhusudan

Not everyone who wanders is lost

“Oh Europe, you call me again and again, are you falling in love ?” He thought to himself. Like all he too wanted to be loved, felt needed, pampered and accepted, yet did he accept himself ? Like a child he would invite love, and when it came he would push it away as an artist done with its muse. Brutal he was to himself and others and through this pain he also became the gentlest nurse, balming the souls who crossed his way.

‘The ways of love are a wonder my dear, mystery if you celebrate and a nightmare if u resist. You are the ocean, you are the drop, try to posses it and you would drown.’

And the time came to part ways, as they held to different stories, each one believing it to be true.

1 view0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page