Kindred Spirit.


A kryptonite. A weakness, for my mind. My mind being a glass of milk. And you being a piece of the best cookie around. We fit.


One syllable. One word. One letter. 

Between two verticals and a horizontal, the stories that matter, begin. “I” is not that bad after all. It’s the beginning of things wonderful. 


News being recounted. Old or new, it doesn’t matter. It’s more than heard. It’s more than understood. It simply makes sense. The time doesn’t count.


Drifting around like bodies in space. No idea where and how, but the universe has a plan for us. We collide and it’s stellar. It’s a whole new world of friendship. 


Rarity displays itself and once again, I’m reminded why it’s so beautiful. Like the best birthday gift that has been planned to be given to you, all your life. And when you get it, it’s everything at once. 


Ethereal is what I see this little situation of ours as. But should our friendship not make it, I wouldn’t take a piece of it back. Rather be touched by something so beguiling than not having a trace of it imprinted on my spirit, ever. 


Damn, I just got to be in on one of the best types of earthly magic, didn’t I? 

Because of you, my friend.

Because of you, kindred spirit.

-Kimaya Ingale.


An Ode To My Magical Mind.

To your deprived soul,
The ends of relationships aren’t exactly the best time to have a ‘soul to soul’, are they?
Whatever, I’m known to not have the best timings anyway.
I begin by applauding myself on my ability to not stop giving to people like you, who never cease to take. No returns, included. To others who haven’t had the opportunity to go through what I went, I might seem shallow, stupid and naive. But, I’ve learnt to not anyone belittle my pain, let alone my fury. Your indifference holds no ground, because this one, this time it’s all about me.
From where shall I commence MY story? Most tragedies begin with the general happiness and work their way down to the state of hurt. To pain. To grief. To nothing.
I don’t think I’ll be doing that.
Now that I’m mostly out of pain, I’ll add my own word to corroborate the statement that pain does demand to be felt. And I’d like to add that it does not only ‘feel’; I felt it resonating in every sinew of defense I had built for myself. It leeched itself onto all those minor details that my happy self missed out on, magnified them and watched them on a repeat on the giant screen known as my heart.
But worse than that was the blackout. The emptiness of the long hallways of nothingness. At least the pain brought with it, the flickering of lights. Some darkness is always better than complete darkness, I swear. I didn’t see the stars shine brighter, because the black seeped into my eyes. For the first time, the girl who never screamed during countless Friday Fright Nights, screamed internally. And all voices bodiless sound scarier, don’t they?
Now, I don’t really know what brought the lights back on.
Okay, I’ll admit it. It was seeing your face. And through your eyes, I glimpsed your deprived soul. You served as a reminder of why I deserved better. For that, I thank you. You reminded me in the harshest way possible that even after giving my heart to someone, I can live.
Scientifically that wouldn’t be possible, yes.
However, since science couldn’t provide the road for my recovery, I say that it was my soul and my mind that kept me alive. I’ve always been one of those people bowing down to the whip cracks of my mind, and I’m proud of the way it has me tamed. Heart and soul, wholly.
So, take away my heart. I now live in a place, in my mind where I can conjure up infinite others for the reasonable amount of heartbreaks that I know I’ll be going through, till I find someone worthy of my soul.
Last but not the least, I will tell you that I won’t be scrambling in darkness, not the one you left me in, anymore.
-From my revived soul.

-Kimaya Ingale.

‘A’ For Always, Affection And You.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I think the last post of mine was much appreciated among you all, and so here’s another one. 

Dear A,

            Like hundreds of people who have someone who means as much as you mean to me, I begin this letter with the question, “Where do I begin from?”

 If memories are what we are made of, then I could say you are what allows me to live. Cheesy much? I couldn’t care, we love nachos either way. Senseless much? That’s what we are.

 Anybody who sees us now won’t believe that we’ve known each other only for a year and a half. We’re rarely seen without each other, leading to the belief that we’re lovers. 

Well, they couldn’t be more correct. 

I do love you, but not the way people believe me to. And I’m glad it’s that way, because then no one can question it’s authenticity. There’s no one deciding whether our love, our respect for each other has changed, no one but us. And we both know that there’s no need for us to ever to do that, because- “cross my heart, hope to die.” 

I remember how mad at you I was when you proudly announced to me, “I am leaving and going to–“, well I didn’t let you complete your sentence because that was pretty much it. 

There’s no me without you and no you without me.

I can’t think of anything more to say. I guess this is pretty much the part where I start thanking you for all you did.

Or do I? I wouldn’t mind, but there’s only so much one can read about gratitude, when it’s not about you. So, I’ll just try to say it all in one phrase. 

Thank you for like, life.

Mothers give us birth, that’s true. And our families give us a reason to live. I guess that’s proof enough to let the world know, you’re nothing less than family to me.

A, I’ll take your leave here. Oh and call me, I need a break from life. 



-Kimaya Ingale. 

‘R’ For Reality, Romance And You.

Dear R,

             Everybody knows what you mean to me. Well, I guess everybody but us. 

You’re like the perfect poetry I couldn’t have ever written. The words that dictionaries fail to make me understand. You’re still incomprehensible to me, even though we hate the same animals, both the talking ones and the others. You’re the blurry detail in a photograph, which, instead of making me ignore it, leaves me wanting more.

R, you’re all of that and more.

You’re the one who brought the light with you to ease me into the startling chaos of my reality. I ran from reality as long as I can remember, just because I was a coward; I couldn’t see my mistakes and I ignored the ones which I was shown, because it was just so much easier.

Life before you was easier. Later, I realised, living with you, what “life” was all about.

R, what sets you apart is that you’re asymptotic. Your smile is a curve that few would see as not intersecting the line of pretence. People who pushed you over saw what could be seen easily and took off. I don’t know what made me stay, but I know it has got a lot to do with giggles and long conversations and not having the need of trying to “fit in”.

It has a lot to do with being each other’s cheerleaders and staying that way.

Eh, I know you’ve read hundreds of these appreciation posts. And that irks me, because words aren’t enough to let the world know what you, this tiny 5 foot being is made of.

For the first time, I wish for something more, something more concrete and absolute than my words to romance you. I could say a thousand ‘I love yous’ and yet, my heart would argue saying that this isn’t just love.

You’re magic, R. Whatever anybody says about you, I don’t listen. When somebody acts like they know you, I laugh because I know they don’t. 

What they see is a small child, in need of love and protection. They don’t see the same child guarding the heart of a 5’4″ something nerd. They don’t see her being the sole reason of someone’s smile on a rough day, because that’s how she is. 

I just don’t love you because I know all that you’ve done for me. I love you for all that you unknowingly did and made me smile.

This letter is nothing but me rambling and yet again, failing to capture your beauty and showcasing it to  the world. 

Maybe, I have begun to understand, that not all art is meant to be captured and showcased. And you, my darling, are certainly one heck of a masterpiece.



Kimaya Ingale.

In The End, We’ll Find Our Forever.

Dear me, 

                Uh-huh, I know you’re beat. Beat from caring a lot and doing everything you can to make others happy, but always failing. Tired from over-thinking and finding no solution. You feel tired again and frustrated, because you know you’re smarter than that and you always find a way in the end. But there’s no secret tunnel you found this time. The cave seems shut. No way for you to break through and you are so, SO scared to spend the rest of your time in this dark place. With probable Aragog-like spiders waiting just behind you to chop your head off. 

           I’ll be your ray of light, then. And you can actually count on me to stay. You won’t have no choice to doubt me, because you know you need this, this bleak ray of hope and the more you believe in it, you believe in me.

        The issue this time around is broken promises of “forevers” and “always(s)”, yes? 

       Brush them off, baby girl. As soon as they come, brush them off and never believe. 

      Because “forevers” don’t exist. Because “forevers” are entirely messed up things, that begin when you finally end.

      Remember, in the end, you’re only good enough for Death to keep you forever. 

      Till then, give the earthlings a piece of your pie, but take a good amount in return, because girl, you’re fine. 

      I’ll leave now, but just when you need another quick pick-me-up, I’ll be there. It’s a done deal, I swear. 
                                              Love, A Stronger You.

Dear Someone I Knew Well.

Dear Someone I Knew Well,

Hey, there. Get out from under your blanket. Both, the real one and the one you use as a wall to not let anyone in. It’s going to break down anyway, when someone who “cares” comes along. I might as well be that someone. Knowing you like I do, I am positive that you won’t trust that person. But, maybe, you will trust me when I say- I’m you.

You forgot the promises you made to yourself, or should I say, us. You promised that you won’t love so hard. But, you did. You loved so much that you forgot to save some love for yourself.

You promised that you would not be one of those people who searched for ‘I hate myself quotes tumblr’. What a sad thing it is for me to know that your Google history is full of it. Shame, really.

You promised that you would not crave dying even when tides get rough. You should be craving for chocolate, right now. Don’t think I can’t hear you praying for death moments before sleep and when you wake up. 

You promised that you would live every goddamned day, and not be a bleak shadow of existence. You’ve got plenty of sun in your life to keep you going. All you need to do is crane your neck above your goddamned rain cloud. 

Darling, please, please don’t give up. I won’t tell you to stop loving others, because you do a fine job at that. All I ask of you is to not lose yourself in the process. Think of others, help them out but pay attention to yourself. Remember-

“We all have a battle waging inside us. Conquer yours first, before trying to aid someone else. Because otherwise, you just might be the flaming arrow burning them down.”

Go all out, kiddo. Win that battle. Let it’s scars be tattooed on your body. They’d look cooler than the rather hideous one you designed for yourself, anyway (you were never an artist).

If you don’t believe they don’t love you, find a reason for you to love yourself. And then it’s simple, just show them the reason. It won’t be easy, but I’m rooting for you the whole way.

I can’t wait to see you win and take the credit for myself. You wouldn’t mind that, because what was you was me, what is you is me and what you will be, will be me.

I want you to know, you aren’t a firework. You are the beginning of it. You’re just set up now and people will wait for your show. I don’t know how many will want to see the end of it and how many won’t wait, but I know those who miss out will feel it.

After all, how many times have you seen the celestial bodies being outshone? 

  Yours truly,

The One You See In The Mirror.

-Kimaya Ingale.

Dear Joy.

Dear Joy,

Hi! I guess, a “long time, no see!” is in order. You might not be visiting me in recent times, but I assure you, your company is enjoyable.

In my childhood, you were easier to obtain. I’d experience you almost every other moment. Playing with my friends, staring at nothing, reading, watching cartoons, eating what I liked, spending time with my family, drawing (which I absolutely despise now)- you came with it all.

But now, when I’m in my teenage, I’ve discovered quite a lot of things which have affected your time in my life. Now that I know that nothing is permanent, I find ‘happily ever after’ nothing more than a desperate attempt at promising a better tomorrow. What’s worse, only a few make it through to see the better tomorrow or the better day after tomorrow or the better, whenever it comes. Scary, isn’t it?

You exist a lot in my memories. You come in the form of some people I interact with on a daily basis (some of them extremely gorgeous, if you know what I mean *wink*). You come in the form of flashbacks of things that I once had. You exist in the thought of the things I will have. You exist in literature and words. You exist in human gestures. You exist in a lot of things. 

Then, you shouldn’t be difficult to find, eh? But, you are. You are like a chameleon. You blend in with the other emotions that already exist in majority. It takes a long while to pick you out. Most give up in the process. However, it’s beautiful watching those who successfully do so. It inspires other people and then BAM! You are a phenomenon that everyone wants to experience and the world slowly becomes a better place.

I don’t know whether you will be as hard to find in my adulthood as you are now. Maybe I will have experienced you enough times to know where exactly to look. I hope that is the case; for me and for everyone else.

Wow, that was Aristotle-level philosophical. Maybe, I should calm down a bit.

Maybe, I shouldn’t. I’ve gotten all worked up now, to find you. And it’s a damned better thought than all the others I’ve had lately.

Yours sincerely,


-Kimaya Ingale.