Pimple’s POV

Even the most boring existence is something, an existence after all.

I stare all day, covered in my cocoon of whiteness. I stare at the scorn people give me, I stare at the admiration that teens grace me and yet nothing affects me because this existence is small and painful and no one wishes to want me.

I wasn’t given a choice to be born. I didn’t want this. I am not just called with names, I am insulted with them.  Pimple? Oh! You can do better than that. Acne? Sounds cool but dangerous. Racism doesn’t leave us alone. My beautiful cousin twins are called whiteheads and blackheads. Please they didn’t want that. And cysts? Sounds like a Greek Villain.

I will stop complaining about names. As a great human said, “What’s in a name?” Yes, I was there that day when he made the famous quote.You see I have been here a long time. And I have seen it all. I have seen the strength and weakness humans possess. I have seen the problems they have faced and the moments the solutions were found.

But it saddens my heart to tell that I have given them problems too.  Foremost among them is irritation. Maybe that is why they dread me to the core. Because I appear suddenly on their beautiful face overnight and refuse to do anything but grow. You see I can’t control my growth, can you? I hide behind men’s beard and cause them to itch involuntarily, even in the most important of meetings. I cause them to bleed when they try to shave and leave behind a small mark that embarrasses their manhood and questions their ability to shave.

There’s an unnecessary mix of complication towards how woman feel towards me. I do know that women are complicated so it sort of soothes my excitement.  I am despised by some woman for ruining their beauty but I am also wanted by some woman, because they feel some guy has a crush on them and they show me off with pride and admiration. And then when I grow and spread they hate me more fiercely than they loved me and what more? They make their friends to hate me too.

The only person who loves me is dust. But this friend further complicates my relationship with humans. At this moment I feel compelled to mention a lad who washed his face fifty times a day in the hope of removing dust and in the process kill me.

There’s no pattern of problems I present. There’s no labyrinth of solutions that I can offer. But times change.

It’s with my heartfelt pleasure I announce the release of a solution, one I wasn’t aware till a few months back. You see, people have tried numerous solutions to get rid of me with unsatisfactory  results. Most of them were painful and some I didn’t feel a thing. But an innovation changed it all.

I vividly remember that day. Little did I know I would enjoy it so much, that it would be so soothing and I could just fade away easily! It was Garnier Pure Active Neem face wash that liberated me.

And I live in the hope that it will continue to do so.

This post is a part of IndiBlogger Garnier Pure Active Neem contest and the link to Garnier website can be found at No pimples No marks and Neem face wash.  



The idea box

PHOTO PROMPT - Copyright Ted Strutz

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright Ted Strutz


“Honey, is it on?”

“What?” she shouted from across our room.

“The box i brought home last night.” I shouted back, my thoughts scrupulously wandering across every bizarre universe you can think of. Oh! universe? Wierd.

I could almost hear a faint sound of metal striking mind.

“I think the fuse’s burnt” she said with an air of expertise.

“Was this important?” she asked almost waiting to devour my answer.

“Yes, it was a gift.” i replied almost sadly.


“The aliens that visited our house last night. They said it was some kind of an idea box that was gifted to them by aliens that visited their house.”

“Ohh , i think we should pass it on too” she suggested.

“Brilliant idea!”



The subtleties of love

Where does love begin? Where does it end?

For most of us it isnt the beginning nor the end that matters but only the journey. And then the question aries , why?

Maybe because it was the moments we had, memories we made or the fights that we lost. But the fact remains , love is subtle.

Love isn’t lost, love isn’t forgotten but love ends.

Love ends when it is corrupted. And it corrupts when either person become possessive. Any relationship requires patience, faith and understanding.



I think the grandeur of love lies in it’s ability to wish the other person happiness when we are in pain. That we try to give them strength when there isn’t anything left in us. That we understand their pain when even our pain escapes us. That we love them for what they are and not what we want them to be.

I feel only then we will understand what true love is.

And when we do the subtleties matters.