It is funny isn’t it. Before you know a person. A photo is just a photo. It is just something you scroll by on some social networking site. Then when you meet that person or become friends with that person,  you see that photo in a different way. And then you get to know the person. And with every little thing you get to know about them, you percieve the photo in a different way. Like you no longer see it as a photo. Now you see the imperfections and the flaws. You see the scar below their eye and remember them telling you, so enthusiastically, the tale of their dog jumping at them exitedly the first day they got him home. You see their photo smile and remember their actual smile. The smile you’d do anything to keep on their face. You see them more than just the total of their parts. There is something more now. Just a bit more. Then somehow, someday,  you may not be that close to them anymore. And you lose this,  beautiful,  beautiful feeling,  of knowing them. You still see the same things,  but you also see it fading. You see them fading. And now, again,  it is just a photo. You start forgetting the way they raise their eyebrows and the way their mouth curls as they laugh. And that is so sad a thing, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I think that is what hurts me the most , when I lose contact with a person. Seeing their photo, and seeing just an empty face. Just another person,  with their own life. Not the person who’s life intersected yours.

But then again,  I guess,  not everyone thinks so much about a single photograph. Maybe,  it is just me,  overthinking




As she sat there in the deafening silence of the dark, she knew it was there . It was all still there and the darkness? It shone on all of what she was hiding. That’s what it does I guess . Darkness. We try so hard to confuse our mind into believing it is okay. We are okay. But then it is dark. And all the other distracting lights are off and this is all we have left. Lonliness. Grief. Sorrow. Whatever it is that plaugues even the happiest of us. She tried so hard,  oh so hard to just stay away from this darkness. To always have something small or petty to worry about or obsess about so this wouldnt get to her. It worked brilliantly too. She fooled everybody,  even herself for a while. But soon she ran our of things to obsess over and all she had left, was her and the cold, blinding darkness which by some irony made it easier for her to see. She would have given anything for a kind word or a small but sure hand of support. But now that she was finally in this darkness she saw it. She had been hiding from it for so long that she didnt realise that the darkness? That was exactly what she needed. That lonliness in her heart? That was her failing to understand that she had everything she needed. She had herself and that was all that mattered.  So instead of treating that darkness as a shroud, she wore it, like a cape. She emerged out of the hurdles she had crafted for herself. She emerged alone,  but content.


Most of our life is a series of images. They pass by us like towns on the highway. But sometimes a moment stuns us as it happens. And we know that this instant is more than just a fleeting image.-One tree hill

Hey I’m Avantika Kulkarni, just an ordinary person, living an ordinary life. But it’s these ordinary lives and ordinary moments that make our life extraordinary. Our lives are made of millions of moments. Each moment as overwhelming as the next. And these moments make up a story. Every individual has their own story.However boring they may feel their lives are,every single organism to take birth in this world has some significance. And so many of our stories collide and intersect with others.We have an impact in every life surrounding us.However small that impact may be. Not all of these moments are happy,satisfying ones. A few are meant to bring us down. A few are meant to bring a smile on our face, years later. But one thing is definite, that every single momeblog3nt of our life is life changing. Everything we hear, see or say adds up to our story. So I wonder how many lives we change, and how many lives change us? It is like a picture taken in a public place, which includes people who were not intended to be in it,but are in it nevertheless.That just means that every person who enters and exits our life is there for some definite reason. It makes me happy to think that all the suffMomentsering we go through when something goes wrong in our life has some significance except for to make our lives miserable. It somehow makes the suffering a lot more bearable, knowing that something good might come of. All the times we fall,and rise up again teach us to keep going on,and that hope is all we have in this world. Every moment gives us the courage to wake up the next day and continue however tough it  may be. And what else could one ask for?

P.S-Hey I’m new to please bear with it..Thanks 😀