The Wealth We Have In Common. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Being so crappy at updating, I have no right to be making you guys requests. But yet, I have one. The following post I’ve written is kind of very important. Not just to me, but to another as well. So, I would really, REALLY appreciate any feedback. If it’s too boring and causes you to quit midway, please let me know that, too. Thank you. 

I’d like to think of all of us as bank owners. Each one of us, owning a bank large enough to gather “savings” all life long, from the moment we first cry to signify the beginning of our existence.

And the gift of communication, oh sweet, beautiful language as the wealth we all share.

Language is the wealth that makes us humans. It’s what might help us get love, the quintessential ‘dollar’ that buys for us the ‘humanity’ in ‘human’.

Or hatred, the life-long lesson that might makes us want to ‘invest’ in love.

Reverting to simpler terms, I firmly believe that language, or words, are the wealth we have in common. 

Think about it. 

Words, are our biggest uniter. People say that love unites all, but a person suffering from philophobia (fear of love) might beg to differ.  

“Actions speak louder than words.”- To the believers in this saying I would like to say- with our actions, we’re making cracks in the society. We’re shattering ourselves and destroying our title as ‘humans’. Misanthropists would laugh and the cynics would have a gala time looking at us carrying out our truly hypocritical actions. Sure, actions guarantee proof to our promises while words don’t, but as I look around, I see us thriving on the ‘hope’ that words bring us. 

While we cannot actually see the actions that quantify a ‘better tomorrow’, words surely bring about the hope that fuels us to make it so. That is the significance of this wealth that we hold. 

Seven continents, hundreds of nationalities, thousands of religions- even the killer tsunami of differences, that these things bring upon us, cannot render anyone of us a beggar by robbing us of the ability to communicate. 

Sure, poets and writers might belong in the upper society with their prowess pertaining to words. But, no one, no one could be a complete pauper when wealth is counted in terms of language or words instead of other materialistic commodities. Everyone can have something to share and yet not worry about when they’ll run out of their riches. 

In case someone does run out, he or she can easily live off someone else’s, maybe even saving a life in this way. We’ve all heard of fans thanking their favourite musicians for saving their lives (and speaking from experience, I beg you to not put it off as mere exaggeration) through their lyrics. And, if saving lives doesn’t bring about a sacred bond between humans, then I do not know what does. 

Which also corroborates my earlier statement of saying that- words buy us the love we need to retain our humanity. 

To conclude, I’d like to treat you with a short poem-

“Though thou ask of me 

To give thee my most precious,

A wealth found nowhere;

O fiend, O greedy thief thee, 

My treasure of words thou

Cannot steal and keep it to

Thy self,

For wherever humanity exists,

It’ll be everywhere.”

Kimaya Ingale.


Hi, Hello, Hey.

Hi guys!
I think I’m probably going to update only twice a week, henceforth. The reasons for this are:

1) Mother is going absolutely crazy because she’s paranoid about my future and she is *this* near to deleting my blog. I know, the horror. My father is not that crazy yet, however, that doesn’t stop him from co-hosting the daily ‘Dire Predictions About Kimaya’s Future’ show with my mother.

2) I secretly agree with them when they say I’m bang on the path of becoming a homeless beggar.

3) I have been observing, that my older posts don’t get much attention when I so crazily keep on updating. It’s only the newer posts who get all the likes and nice comments (which I’m so thankful for). But come on guys, the oldies feel lonely. I might sound whiny when I say this, but I think I’ll lay off the manic updating for a while because I want people to see my previous work, too.

Also, I want my next post to be a bit laid-back, so I’ll need you guys to ask me some questions and I’ll try to answer them as honestly as I can. You can post questions till Wednesday, after which, I believe, I will answer them on Thursday.

PS: If you guys don’t feel up to asking any questions, don’t you worry, I’ll be creating my own questions and answering them and try not to drown in self-pity.

Love you all,
-Kimaya Ingale.

Diary Of A Lame Girl.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey guys! So yesterday was a bad day for me and I was stormy. So the following incident is a true and exact narration of  how things turned out for me when I tried to tackle my turmoil. Hope you don’t mind me writing such episodes of my life and boring you all. Because damn, does it feel good to get your feelings out in the open. Do tell me what you thought of it. Love you 🙂

So I had a really rough evening yesterday, and I didn’t know how to combat with the pain and anger I felt over the person responsible for it. I eventually slept over it, listening to some One Direction (I don’t care if you don’t like them, they are my life) and nursing my seething and broken heart.
The morning brought rain with it and having read some Tumblr quotes like ‘Let The Rain Wash Away The Pain Of Yesterday’, I couldn’t wait to get drenched in it. But my actions are ruled by my mother’s permission and we just had had a fallout recently and whilst I made up my mind whether to ask for her permission or not, the intensity of the rain lessened and also did the Tumblr-y scenarios in my head.
When I finally got to the terrace, the rain became more or less a drizzle. Stepping carefully on the wet floor, trying not to bash my head in, I got another wonderful idea. The rain combined with my inner turmoil due to yesterday’s happenings would make a good blog post. I only had to figure out how some of my fellow writers got their thinking machine to form wonderful metaphors to disguise their pain and got inspiration from something like lightening and thunder; because all lightening and thundering did to me was scare me out of my wits’ end and shake my fist at the guy Up There for scaring me.
I looked all around me from the terrace and tried to gain some inspiration and form the words and phrases which would constitute of my next, BIG, blog post. But all I could manage to do was stare into the distance and mentally shoot the person who was the reason behind all of this. ‘Pow pow pow’ went my little gun and suddenly, I found myself in the company of a crow. 15 minutes gone and I was only partly drenched and the crow was shooting me looks. After a 5 minute stare fight, he flew away knowing that he had better things to do than stare at a 15 year old, who did not have anything better to do than stare a crow. I tried to gain some ‘inspiration’ from the now flying crow before I realized how stupid I was being. Surely, ‘And as she suffered from the pain, the crow with it’s magnificent cawing and exquisite, deep black feathers, was the beacon of hope that signalled with every passing moment, everything would be okay tomorrow’ wouldn’t work. I tried to work up a jingle, and I got out a good tune but only when did I sing out the words, I cancelled the plan of singing my own song, a cliched mess, and becoming the next YouTube sensation. I sounded like a dying walrus with a sinus infection.
Sigh. This was turning out to be really unsuccessful and things got even worse when my dog entered the scene. He was positively taunting me with his lolling pink tongue and that little, sneaky rascal purposely got wet in the rain and shook off all of his water over me.
So, now fuming and in an even worse condition than before, I set off for home, having accomplished nothing.
Now as I recount my true story to you people, nursing a slight cold, I realise that forging fancy words into metaphors and drawing inspiration from nature’s happenings isn’t my forte. Mentally shooting people is.

-Kimaya Ingale.