Yet I am confused

Hello, people. The stranger is here with a confused, a bit strange and a bit weird blog.
It started when I was in 6th. For the first time, I have made a science model.
Most of you guys judged me with my first sentence that how normal I am talking everyone could have done this. Yes, you all are right. There was a science model presentation for which my project didn’t get the appreciation either. I was supposed to be sad and I was. For a kid like me who rarely talk with people, it was quite unbearable but there was someone who was standing like a monolith. Who supported me through whole my journey. He was my dad. That day he told me one thing I remember the exact, it was, ‘we never fail son, we only win or get experience’. It was very deep thought for the kid studying in 6th standard. For the time, I managed to run through the time. The very next year again the competition held again my model was not selected but this time it was like normal for me to understand that there are so many people who stand above your life. Quite demotivating line but ok for the situation. Next year, again I created a model and as the last two years the thing I got was the failure but this I weren’t motivated nor demotivated, I just evolved myself that where the model is lacking. There is something which always leads me to the failure and what I found was shocking.
I failed every time because the thing I created was unique, it was enormous, complex for people and clearly not something mere. So, next time when I started working on a new project I tried to make it simple and as per the normal guidelines created by our respected freaking teachers but this time I was out from the competition because the category in which I was presenting the project was not the part of competition anymore. It took me four years to understand why I have got failed every time.
In 10th, finally, I got a chance to present my project from my school. In this attempt, I reached the maximum level of competition which was the national level science competition and secured the 2nd position there. I could be the first but there was an issue I can’t tell you right now.
If you are reached here, probably, you were thinking why this guy is spreading shit about his life. So, here I tell you my point. It took me 4 years and more to decide and clarify that I belong to the science stream. Science is my passion. I love to create, believe in practical. Yes, I do it today also. With average grades, I passed my 12th and opt for mechanical engineering.
In between those two years of life. I changed completely. A lot of stuff I have gone through. As a normal, I faced almost every situation sometimes softly sometimes hardly but it changed me again. It took me four years to select my loving stream and in 2years I got a new thing to be in. It was management and literature. I started taking part in and as managing body in events, curricular etc. I started reading novels. It was a new thing for me and I was enjoying it. As I reached the second stage I needed to decide for the next step. Which carrier do I choose? Should I prepare for GATE, CAT, GRE, GMAT, IES, etc. or should I do the thing I love the most? Again I needed to discriminate between two things management and literature.
Options always make your life simpler but in my case I want it to be précised and clear. I don’t like options but life always creates. Not everyone gets options in life. Not everyone gets an opportunity to choose what they want to do.
But it’s always difficult to choose between your priorities where you love two things the same.
And yet I am confused.

Colors of life

Hey guys, after a long span of time stranger is here with a new poem “COlORS of LIFE” 

Looking at the sky wishing for my angel I scorched my eyes by the tensed light of the sun…

When I woke I found myself tangled in the blue,

In the dearth of joy, I started looking for the red love…

No green in the life but behaving like the dove…

Engraving for the food 

I found Black and got banished for forbidden fruit…

Shaping the path again, I fall down to the earth. 

Kissed the dust and felt the gray…rising up after the failure I found the indigo.

It filled me with the zeal and powered me to let my falls go.. . .

While trying to fly, the shine bleached my eyes often. . .

But as the cloud appeared the darkness of shadow made it soften. 

Like the yellow, they supported me in my rise… 

Like a drastic thought of solitude, never to materialize.”

Description: It is a story of a bird who wish for his angel to come to him and adore him but while looking he faces the tormenting shine of sun which burn his eyes. He found himself in tantrum and sadness but with a desire of love. There was no greenery near him from which he can fulfill his life. Things he founds were not worthy enough. He didn’t give up and started looking for a path but he loses the battle again and touched the ground. Again sadness kissed him hard. He lost his small wings but he was determined to live and as get motivation from the shadows of cloud he founds solace and with a new zeal he starts trying to find out the reason for life. It is just a thought of aloofness.

Bunjo. . .

Hello people, Stranger is here with a loving experience of his Bunjo. . . .

I was shivering in the foggy night, it was one of the coldest night of the year. Shrieking in the night I was searching for a place to spend my night. I was wearing my only jacket which was not enough to save me from the cold.
Waiting in front of my house, I was hoping for someone to open the door and take me in but no one does. As night was moving, the cold was increasing hastily. My ears and head were blocked due to icy wind.
Hopelessly I sat on the steps of my house, I was disturbed, lost in thoughts, frozen in cold. No one was there to help me.
I was drowsed but my auricle is opened, the sound of chain and grumbling of something strikes me. There was something behind the second door of my house; it was like someone is struggling there. But the drowsiness left me straightens.
Sometime later, I feel something warm moving swiftly on my face and then on my palms back to back. I stood and saw, and what I saw made me feel the real love and caressing. He was my Bunjo, who was there to help me out with a blanket he uses in his house.
That was a pure love I saw in his eyes. We sat closer to each other and spent the whole night together and it reminded me of the incident with which I met my Bunjo.
It was a same shrieking night of winter I was in my room which is just next to the gallery of my house. I closed my work and moved to bed. It was 12:30 am already but tonight I didn’t get the sleep. I was trying sleep but it was uneasy to sleep because my windows were leaking chilled air. I shifted my bed a little to sleep. And finally, I got to sleep after few minute.
The main door of my house get dashed with a boom, it shattered my sleep. The next minute I hear the noise barking, some dogs were fighting there. I ignored it as a usual thing and get back to my dreams. Another dash at the main door, a harsh sound, this time noisier than before.
Again I ignored it but now, there was no sign of sleep.
I was awakened so I started collecting my thoughts. It was a deep silence there, now there were no dogs to bark, even it was easy to listen to the striking sound of needle and floor. After few minute, I hear something weird, it was like someone is grumbling, and a whimpering sound was there.
I opened my door gently and I found there was puppy sitting on my door mate. He was shivering and yelping due to cold. I found some warm clothes for him and covered him and took him inside the room.
That was a day I found my best buddy Bunjo. Once I helped him and this time he saved me from the cold.
Animals are like friends, don’t treat them poorly. They are to be loved. They understand, they care, and they love. Just treat them properly.

A Book. . .

He was a creepy story hidden behind the cover, pretty enjoyable though annoying, adorning the pages with messy stories. An unreadable book filled with miseries.
Once a girl came, she tried to candid his cover. She succeeds in reading him, she sparkled some pages with the glow of her love. His book was a kind of venom, she fields it with love.
She made his monotonous book, a fairy tell.
Glowing his book she reached the creepy, annoying though lovable part and there she found the book ugly. Before reaching the last chapter of his book she left him rotten, unfolding his life in a new sort, fetching his happiness given by herself.
In some ways, she changed the last chapter and made it tragic. First, it was sorrow but she made it bliss. And while leaving, she made his story tantrum, tormenting, full of silence, messy than before.
He was a book written in the letters which were amorphous. She made them decipherable and left open for all.
But she scratched his cover so well and left him crushed. He is now readable to all, but with a crushed scrappy cover.
Now, who will pick a book with this kind of cover?
If you didn’t like the story, just read it once again with a slit change.
Put a girl on boy’s place and boy on girl’s place. #strange