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Music Says Heartbreak, Screen Says Code, But Heart Says Her.

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Music Says Heartbreak, Screen Says Code, But Heart Says Her. Play a song to feel the emotions of this post here below. There are moments in life when everything feels like it carries the weight of a memory. For me, that memory is her . Music has become a cruel reminder. Every song — whether it’s about love, loss, or even joy — somehow carries her name between the lyrics. The melodies sting like confessions I never had the courage to make. On the other side, my screen tells a different story. Lines of code keep me busy, almost like a therapy session I never asked for. Debugging, fixing errors, building something new — they distract me from the pain. Code doesn’t judge; it doesn’t question my silence. It simply waits for me to make sense of it. But in the quiet moments, when the music fades and the code compiles successfully, my heart betrays me. It doesn’t say syntax error or runtime success. It whispers only one truth — her . Healing is slo...
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The Silent Load

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     Just a few weeks ago, my days looked like a loop I couldn’t escape— 9 hours of professional work ,where I showed up, smiled, and performed... followed by 15 hours of invisible war inside my head . It was like living two lives: one that met deadlines, and one that barely held itself together after the meetings ended. What made it worse was how silent it all was. No one could see the weight I was carrying—because it wasn’t in my hands, it was in my mind. Each night, my thoughts would spiral—replaying conversations, doubting decisions, questioning my worth, wondering if I was ever enough. The simplest things felt unbearably heavy. The smallest triggers would tighten my chest and blur my focus. I couldn’t tell if it was just stress, or if my heart was quietly breaking under the pressure. My heart’s desires only deepened the ache—filled with heartache, lingering pain, and moments that left me hollow. It wasn’t just exhaustion—it was emptiness settling in where love was ...
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Virat Kohli, A Legend’s Last Roar In Whites

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12th May, It's not been the proper Monday since the morning after the news of Kohli retiring from the white ball had broken out. Seeing our childhood hero, who has inspired everyone us to play the game signing off the pitch has somehow dismantled our mental consciousness and, had led our heart broken. Personally, I was among the very shy and an intovert kind of  kid, but seeing him grown up from fearless to the most fearless cricketer around the globe has changed my perspection towards the game and ultimately towards my personal life. The hardwork he has put off, the auora he brings in and the energy he displays on the ground, are something we will be missing out so much.  Virat was the fire that lit up dull games. He was the one you could count on when hope was slipping. He taught us that aggression is not just about words, but intent. That fitness is not optional, but essential. That cricket is not just a sport — it’s a battlefield , and every ball counts. With unmatched pas...
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Who Knows What We Truly Hold

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Yes, we dont believe in magic rather if its not a miracle Yes, we dont believe in us rather if its not about being together Well something fishy begins with a sight A sight that has a tremendous power to seek someone within u Power enough to drag you to madness Madness in the world of uncertainty Enough to lead you to endless points of reality Who knows what come forth swinging in or out And thats when everything seems to cease A tiny sparkle is enough to drag you in  Into the world, rich of fantasy you wanted to  build Having had a desire to make it build big But there is when you found it all  scattered  Having no regrets, after all, is what you need to seek Besides its the fortune that what i say  Who knows whom will we be holding See your scars and see the stars Twinkle Twinkle of your own  Ohh Baby, you are just so so fine.
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WE BLEED BLUE

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            One's life is bounded by fate. And, it is that fate that binds one's destiny. Growing up in a   then so-called small village now turning into an urban area is not quite easy for the one who belongs from a mid-class family. Still, the endless memories collected from a beautiful partnership among the friends have let me begin my journey to bleed blue now and then.                 Foremost I owe a big "Thank You" who found out the purse while we were enjoying walking at the bank of Tamakoshi River. Jersey during those time was considered the most desired clothes everyone dreamt of wearing it. And, we got manage to buy 4 sets of Jersey with the money we got from the purse. All thanks to Abhinav for your contribution in making it happened.   Everyone who was out there got a reward of winning the game that day before we found the purse. But, it was me who got t...
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The Huddles Of Struggle

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Many of us say there is no looking back. But, what matters the most is the memory we been lived till date. Looking back to those unbelievable days and the time we spent being as one counts more. Well, this blog this for all my people who have been a part of life. Days were harder and tougher than it looks but they made me as we and we as a family. Thank You, guys !!! You all been inspirational and phenomenal one. Cheers to our days. Cheers to our friendship.
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The memory

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The bond which unites us, the love which has made us all blind, the relation which is much stronger than all of the relation we have Its was our day Its our Only our <KRANDS>
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