Faraaz Kazi quotes:

Never carry the baggage of your past relationships on the honeymoon of your future relationships.

Walking alone is not difficult but when we have walked a mile worth a thousand years with someone then coming back alone is what is difficult.

Love me, even if it's a lie. Leave me yet never say goodbye

A lie that could help someone focus on his life was better than a hundred simple truths.

I wonder if I could take back every 'I love you' ever said to you, would I do it?

I inhale loneliness like it is the sweet smell of virgin earth conquered by fiery rain drops. Within me, I'm a thousand others.

One half of me is a hopeless romantic. The other half is welljust realistic.

Love lies in those unsent drafts in your mailbox. Sometimes you wonder whether things would have been different if you'd clicked 'Send'.

She flooded my thoughts. I drowned in peace.

Little did I realise how much I would miss those ten minutes, those ten minutes in which I lived an entire lifetime.

I wanted to wash away our past misgivings in those tears that would run from our eyes and weave a new start by folding her in my arms.I wanted to, but I did not!

But when nothing in your life happens in a positive frame, it is difficult to think positively and hope for the best.

No matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn't stop for your grief.

Today many of these selfish politicians are preying on the nation itself - (belching corruption and farting discontent!)

One half of me is a hopeless romantic. The other half is well... just realistic.

Whenever the cloud of ego threatens to engulf me, I remind myself of my roots. It helps keeping my feet on the ground.

I wish there was a word more than 'love' itself to convey what I feel for you.

It was going to be a long, dark night but not quite as dark as it was in the abyss of his heart where there was nothing but hollowness, yet it felt heavy, almost as if someone still resided there.

I eyed her like a thirsty traveler in the desert looks at a pail of water.

His mind scolded him for his stupidity and urged him to forget her but his heart had no justifications for its stand. It remained unmoved, its solidarity unaffected, its arrogance still holding.

Her fragrance blew him off and his body followed steps he had never learnt in his life.

What was he? A mere human, stuck between the rungs of blended adolescence and nascent adulthood. What power did he command over the mysterious forces of love? Which sword could shatter the impenetrable armour of desire?

He took the last seat, as usual, a subtle reminder of what he was and what he had become.

A smile doesn't always stand for a perfect life.

The most difficult aspect of moving on is accepting that the other person already did.

There is no home as comfortable as your father's arms and no bed as soft as your mother's lap.

Love, he told himself, was open to interpretation like any other abstract indulgence but followed the same principles everywhere, irrespective of everything else. One, either won or lost in love, there was no bridge in between, and he decided he had lost, lost to himself, if not to her.

What kind of songs do you like? she asked."The ones that remind me of you," I said.

All the good times evaporated like naphtha, the moment some air of misconceptions touched it.

If a man cries in front of you, it doesn't mean he's weak. It means that he trusts you enough to let his guard down.

The growth of my love story had been gradual but my success had always existed and both coupled together formed a deadly combination that was detrimental to our love. I wanted people to love me. She wanted them to leave her alone.

Remember, someone, somewhere in some corner of this somewhat big world, is out there crying if you're unhappy and is happy if you are! And you know who that someone is!

It was not one folly that Shakespeare talked about. If Love truly is but a myriad of follies then I have committed them all, that can mean only one thing - I loved her truly, madly, deeply!

Some people are going to leave, but that's not the end of your story. That's the end of their part in your story.

Beauty can only be best described at its origin through a befuddling silence, the kind that leaves one almost on the verge of a pleasurable death, just because one chooses beauty over life. There is nothing in this world to hold something so pure, so divine except a loving heart. And it is the only manner through which love recognises love; the language of love has no alphabet, no words.

Sometimes your eyes are not the only place the tears fall from.

Love? he asked himself, giving no sense of recognition for that word in the dictionary of his mind. It was the only battle he had lost in life, the only thing that had been snatched away from him, before he could even claim it.

It was like watching a movie being played on the blank screen of his mind; the only difference was that he did not get bored, no matter how many times he watched it.

Grief embraced him and welcomed him back, showering tears upon his arrival.

Perhaps that is the real surprise of love; it exists, but one may not attribute causes and effects to it. The existence may appear to be a mere fallacy to the minds of some, and by the time they realise what hit them, they would already be down and dead.

Who would have listened to his tales of woe when his love was the flickering lamp over his own decaying tomb?

Not watching the path where his legs took him, he walked on because he knew he had to walk ahead, leaving his past behind.

The tears of my eyes watered your heart but failed to evoke a response from the barren grounds of what beats in you. They will still come and I will welcome them because they contain you.

Rahul had wondered how someone could love their beloved so much that their dedication to them became one of the wonders of the world.

I could take back those moments that snatched you away from me or maybe just wipe away those ten minutes when you came to me for the first time and I looked into your eyes to realise what love is.

All they do is warm their seats for their long tenures and eventually even their seats get dilapidated with the amount of money they hog in illegally and the only way it comes out is by tilting their huge pot-bellied frames to one side and emitting poisonous gases that not only depreciate their beloved seats but also the nation as a whole and then they shout 'Global Warming.' Hallelujah!

It's love when someone can touch you without using their hands.

One of the symptoms of having a broken-heart is the fact that even ghosts will give up on the hope of scaring you as you have already lived through your worst fear.

Our love is the reason romance was created.

Eye contact is way more intimate than words will ever be.

Fate, they say, fate- the clay that molds the events of your life, and it was the same fate that had thrown the stone of her heart on the building of his expectations. But then wasn't it his fault that he had constructed the building of glass? Hadn't he failed to cement the bricks of his love with trust and colour them with security? There was no insurance for broken hearts, no ointment for wounded souls and there would never be one, he knew.

Competition was as much as respecting your opponent's work as introspecting on your own.

That night it did not rain as much in the sky as it did in his heart.