Jul 3, 2012

Fighter


She was smiling as I chased her around.Her legs carried her puny frame fast enough, but not fast enough for me to catch up. Yet, I slowed down to let her feel as though she was unreachable. But, when I heard her falling short of breath, all it took was two strides to catch her by her waist and haul her up on my shoulder.

The sounds of our laughter rang in my ears, even after she lay in the bed with the wires running around her failing body.

You are a fighter, honey”, I told her every single day. So, to make her believe it, we played our little game every evening in the hospital garden. Her eyes came alive like the bloom of the flowers even though her life seemed to wane away into the horizon like the setting sun.

Only that the sun rises again’, I had inwardly despaired!

I am a fighter”, she said when she climbed back into the hospital bed. She believed in me, more than I did.

The sounds of my sobs and the feel of my tears on my cheeks as I saw her each night, seated by the hospital bed, stayed with me, even after all these long years.

Today, I am on a similar bed reminiscing about the years gone by.

You are a fighter” says a voice. Barely a whisper!

I half open my eyes and I see her in her white frock with red polka dots, a red hairband holding back her black hair and her eight year old teeth sparkling through her bright smile. But, hasn't it been thirty years since then ?

I am brought out of my reverie when I feel a drop of tear on my cheek. Tears that, are not mine.

I open my eyes wide enough to see my daughter standing . Her eyes adorned with tears, but it fills me up with strength.

At the age of eight she taught me to believe in the spirit of fighting and today, as a mother of a eight year old, she reminds me to fight for myself.

I am a fighter”, I say out loud, with great belief while my granddaughter claps happily.

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Jun 6, 2012

The longest wait


She wished she could use words to describe, to explain in words what had led to the series of events, of how she faltered. But, would words ever do justice?

She waited, of what seemed to be her longest wait, with every rustle outside, stopping her midway while she pranced to and fro the length of the tiny living room of their one bedroom flat.

She had always known that she was wrong, but she had never pondered; never let guilt taint her heart, never let regret spill into her soul drop by drop. The horrific feeling spread out in her; while every drop like blood spread out on a white garment, slowly engulfing every layer, every thread of her soul.

When had she slipped into the abyss of darkness, despite being careful to jump over each crack each and every time, she never knew ! She hadn't ever realized that she had slipped until, she saw him peering down upon her, from up above. Not a single word was uttered, but she could hear everything that he would say that evening.
So now, she waited, of what seemed her longest wait.

The clock ticked and so did her heart with fear. Tear drops lined by the hem of her eyes, wanting to spill over, to find release; but, she wouldn't let them. She found herself beyond pity, beyond the realm of the comfort of her own tears. Some paths you take in life are like that, you would want even your tears, to desert you.

The most horrific of thoughts crossed her mind with obscene deaths of suicide. Only that, if it happened, she would be a murderer. She hoped that strength had been by his side after he had seen her with another man. She wished for him to be mad, only at her, and not at himself. More than anything she wished, for him to come back home, no matter in what state. She was prepared to face drunken murderous rage.

She waited, of what seemed to be her longest wait, until, she heard the doorbell. Hoping it was him, she opened the door.

He walked past her, placing groceries on the table, never once glancing at her.

Ever since, there had never been a day gone by, without her apologizing, without him accusing her, without them discussing it- only through their eyes.

Words, had evaporated completely but each day she waited, of what seemed to be her longest wait,even after she was buried beneath the earth. But in reality she had buried herself long ago, beneath guilt and the longest wait.

Image by Santiano Caruso. Link here 
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May 25, 2012

Compassion ?


There were cold stares, no doubt and each pair of eyes radiated as much hatred as anybody could muster. The sea of hostile eyes was not something she had not expected. What took her by surprise, was that single pair of greenish brown eyes of a stranger. They seemed to be giving a knowing look, a look of apathy and compassion, almost.

The scene didn't change over the next few months. Every hearing was followed by the same looks of animosity. She didn't care as long as she got to see that single pair of eyes that emanated of compassion. She hadn't expected and somehow it kept her going.

 She drew several pairs of eyes on the walls when she felt she couldn't take it any more  Every time she recalled those eyes, it filled her with renewed vigor. No, vigor was not the right word. Vigor to her had meant running in the fields chasing the dandelions by the sunlight. Those days were long gone, trapped in a past she could hardly recollect. Let’s just say the memory of those eyes just filled her with a sense of sanity.

Weird as it might sound, she did not recall the face that contained those eyes. She did not care how the person looked - if those eyes had seen the worldly ways or if they were yet to discover the dark clouds. All she waited was for that fraction of a moment when she could lock her eyes with those eyes when her reasons seemed to come back to her and assure her that she had done everything for the best.

The final hearing was done. Justice that everyone clamored for was served. While being led out, she searched the crowd for that pair of eyes, for one last look, that she could seal forever in her memory, hold it close to her heart and sketch it in every layer of her mind. Maybe she would take one extra second to see the face, one last time to convey her gratitude for the strength she had gained.

“.. and justice has been served. After the speedy trial,The assassin of the revered man of this society is now sentenced for life. May he finally rest in peace!  With cameraman…”

She was frantically searching for those eyes. "One last time. . ", she thought !

Somehow, she felt that they were watching her from somewhere. They did not exhibit compassion this time. They were narrowed as the trigger of the long distance rifle was pulled.

A piercing pain shot in her forehead. She searched for the greenish brown eyes.  But, she never saw them again. She wasn't sure of her reasons any more. And nor of her sanity !



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May 19, 2012

Winds of change


She smiled as she passed. Towards her, my heart leapt.
To strings, she was never attached. To her free spirit, I surrendered.

Blinded as I was, by her charm that the winds of change, I never noticed. 

She left but, her essence lingered. Memories of her caresses remained. 
The path she took was where my gaze was fixated. 

By the coaxing breeze, I remained untouched. Bitter, I grew; Cold, I stood.

The winds whistled by, seasons passed; but nothing thawed my icy heart.

By a sudden rustling one morning, I was moved. It wasn't her; but the touch - it seemed so familiar.

Yet again, strings there were none, but by her presence, I didn't want to be altered. A lesson, hadn't I already learnt?

But with time, she persisted, never leaving me, caught in the web of my branches, embracing me tightly even in the harshest of the tempests, this torn kite, she stayed, forever, by my side.


Image Courtesy:flickrhive

***
Sometimes, all that we need is to wait for the change that the winds bring.
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Apr 20, 2012

Every afternoon..

I sipped tea while she sipped coffee as the music of rain pouring down upon the asbestos sheeted roof filled the room.

She looked at the rain drops clinging onto the glass pane while I looked at the tear drops clinging onto her cheek.

Her heart wished to see the beautiful patterns of the drops of rain on the glass pane while my heart wished to see her flawless cheek dotted by drops of her tears which, she never wiped away.

She looked beautiful especially, when she smiled. But, she looked amazingly beautiful when she cried. 

The tear drops, like pearls added beauty to the long eyelashes that cradled her big black eyes.

Each drop that fell from her eyes was a unique gem containing her essence in their purest form. For, tears are pure, purer than the fake smiles.

Each afternoon, she would come by, walking across my lawn, stumbling against pots, apologizing and grinning sheepishly. The grin reminded me of my childhood. It was the same grin flashed by a kid who had bullied me.
I hated it.

So each afternoon, when she came by, I narrated stories-tearjerkers. I made her cry-out of happiness! And when, I couldn’t tolerate her smiles, I made her cry-out of sadness. But, she came every afternoon without fail. A routine, formed for life.

I just made her cry every single afternoon when she visited a wheelchair confine that I am, without ever reminding her of my disability, without ever reminding her that she was the one who ran her car over me in drunken rage !


Image : A pic clicked by me

***
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Apr 18, 2012

Captivated - 55 Fiction #4



She looked at me with sad eyes even though her lips were half smiling.
The same look which had captivated me for years, which had me tethered here. 

But now, I wanted to leave, had to.

I stepped out of the house, while my unfinished painting of her, turned to embers along with her memories.

Image courtesy : A travelogue in http://convassor.info

***

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Apr 1, 2012

Tattered !


Surrounded she was by sisters and brothers of her kind. 
Yet, her heart yearned for a company, albeit of a different kind.

Bored of the same old conversations with her siblings, she sighed loudly “I wish for someone afar, who would tell me the tales of a different life, of a different existence.

Wishes and dreams, they say come true eventually.  And one day, when she heard the stranger approach her slowly, she knew her dreams had come true.

His initial apprehension ebbed away with her willing submission.

She heard, all that she wanted. Charmed she was, by his ways. His caresses, she enjoyed.

Over the time, she swirled into the breeze, whiffs of mistrust, if there were any.

He was so very gently, so very tender that she did not even notice that he had started devouring her essence of existence. Scars, she oversaw and holes of abuse, she neglected.

"What is a bit of hurt when you love someone truly", she thought.




Warnings, she dint pay heed to. And one fine day, all that was left of her were just threads of tattered dreams for him to walk over.


****

Inspiration clearly were from the pics clicked by SmartAlec. Thank you for clicking wonderful pictures that almost always tell a story which inspire deep thoughts and make me pen down a few lines from time to time :). Keep clicking !

Even though the story seems to be of a leaf and snail, the occurrence of dreams being ripped off in real life is not uncommon; though in real life, grit and strength to hang in there shall help one recover and emerge stronger to live dreams in spite of the hurt. Hail the undying spirit of human will !


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Mar 28, 2012

November rain



Coiled threads of memories intertwine with jumbled emotions just like my fingers on his hair.

Nothing has changed over the years. He still sleeps like a smiling angel.

Wasn’t it just yesterday when I set my eyes on him? Love at first sight?
No, I was already in love even before he made his dramatic entry into my life.

I have always loved November rains for the calmness they exude in spite of the heavy torrents. Wasn't it on one such night that God bestowed this gift?

The rumble of the thunder pierces my swirling thoughts. I walk to the window and stretch out my hand to catch the first few drops of November rain.

It sure is a symbol of new beginning.
Or is it a perfect ending to the relationship we share?

I curse myself for such thoughts. How can I be so doubtful, so selfish?
This relationship can never be tainted. The oozing drops of any other color, even if it is red, will just beautify it more.

But hadn’t Vani told me how things changed?
I feel torn. I am not sure any more.

I watch as the rain pours down in torrents just like my tears.

I don’t see him walk up stealthily to me. It is only after he holds my hand that I realize his presence next to me. He clasps my hand tightly and looks at me.

Just like old times”, he says as he smiles.

We both stretch our hands into the rain together, just like the hundreds of times before. Time seems to have flown by in a jiffy.

But, he is still like the November rain- gentle, tender and loving.


Nothing will change about us, even if I fly half away across the globe. I promise, Mom”, he says.



****

P.S : Wrote this in a jiffy and published it even though it did not turn out how I wanted it to :/
Picture : Link
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Mar 17, 2012

Invitation - The consequence : Guest Entry


Read  Invitation  The surrender

The consequence

The seductress turned around in search of another victim.

The dismissal of the dried maple leaf wasn't a matter to mourn. It had begun its journey with the lake, not sure if the lake was a friend or an enemy. She swirled in her own notion to celebrate the victory, yet had considered to have enough time before the hunt. 


He was strong; she was afraid not only of him but also of his shadow. His existence reminded her the meaning of ‘Battle of Survival’. He was powerful, strong and could not afford to care for her.

She ran hither and thither. She pleaded the maple for place to hide. Maple denied sheltering the carrier of his son’s death angel. She had no place to fight, she, now, knew the feeling called surrender. She capitulated.

She burned into vapors; He did not even realize her agony. His aim was to travel from east to west without disturbing the cycle of Mother Nature. He concentrated on his job as he shone brightly. As she rose higher and higher, she watched him furiously. She couldn’t be tranquil like the leaf. He did not bother about her trepidations. 

Rest in peace” said the Sun as the day was about to turn dark.

She walked straight into the lake in form of rain drops. She got that she wasn’t created to be alive to play around; she was existed to die to spend rest of eternity with the leaf that had surrender to her existence.



***

This was written by an angel called Snehal, for my previous blogpost. Snehal, thank you for writing this wonderful piece for me darling :)
Apart from being an amazing writer and someone who I consider one of the best writers I've come across, she's a total sweetheart of a person ! You can find her on blogspot here : $nehal


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Mar 15, 2012

Invitation



My name she whispers, ever so softly.
Her fingers, they caress me.

Calling me, she has been, forever.
Her invite, it tempts me.

Seduction is her game. I thought I had seen through it and had gone past all of it, but, I think I shall fall prey soon. She’s a free spirit who taunts my bondage. She‘s a wily witch who promises to show me the pleasures of a free run. Of her capabilities, I have no doubts. For, she has the ability to take me to places I have never been to. But, I had never considered it worthy. I loved my values. I loved belonging to someone. But, now, when I am old and wrinkled, I have doubts if I am wanted here any longer.

Do not resist me”, she says in her honey voice.

I look back at the life I spent, of the memories bygone. All my youth I have watched her sway around me, trying to lure me. It’s true that I flirted with her, swayed to a few tunes too; but, I had scoffed, even laughed at her dejected face when I rejected the offer to join her.

One day, you will, just like the others”, she had smirked at me.

My end is near. And I knew the time has come, to let go off myself, to accept her invitation. It is better to drink the beauty of her companionship, one last time, rather than to see an abrupt end.

She smiled victoriously for she had attracted yet another victim.

Gently, she caressed me as I held her waist, swirling sweet tango. Breaking my bond with my abode, I took off with her, for a final dance, for a rendezvous, quivering because of the fierce passion she exhibited.

Accepting her invitation was worth the sights and the pleasures she had to offer. Contentment, I felt.

Rest in peace”, the autumn breeze whispered as she blew the dried maple leaf to the nearby lake.




***

Inspiration : The photo below posted by a colleague Gopalakrishna Hariharan in SLR Bulletin Board of my company.


Thank you for permitting me to share it :)

Plus the dancing peepal leaves that I saw near the IIIT junction. (Being caught in traffic sometimes has advantages :D)

PS : This post has a guest entry contributed by an angel which I shall share in the next post !
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Mar 12, 2012

Something was different today.


This was not the first time that I sat with him.

How many times had we sat on the fresh green carpet in nature’s lap leaning against the tree overlooking the pond?  Countless.
Yet, something was different today.

He dint forget to greet me by my nickname.
  Yet, something was different today.

I punched on his tummy like I always did when I greeted him. 
Yet, something was different today.

He dint forget to bring my favorite chocolate and cream donuts. It has been a ritual.
  Yet, something was different today.

I mumbled how good they tasted while I dug into the donuts and even dropped a few crumbs all over my dress, while the chocolate syrup stuck around my chin and cheeks as usual.
  Yet, something was different today.

I bent my head to lean onto his shoulder, like I always did when something troubled me.
Yet, something was different today.

His head dint lean back on mine. Neither did he brush away the crumbs off my face.

Nothing had changed over the past 14 years. We came here every Sunday. This was our spot. The tree by the pond. We discovered it ages ago and we had even made our mark on the bark of the tree as kids. Every single tree in this park, every blade of grass, ever petal of the flowers, and every ripple in the pond knew us.

But today, they seemed to alienate us. Like they were mourning something.

The pond was still. It was very different. I threw a pebble into the water trying to disturb its penance, trying to make it look normal, trying to set everything right.

And I heard those words “Alicia, I am leaving for university tomorrow. I won’t promise that I will keep in contact because over the time I might not be able to. I won’t promise that I will be there for you always because I might not be able to be there for you when you need me. I won’t promise that I will come back for you because I might change. I won’t promise to address you as a hedgehog whenever I see you because I might see you as a lady, almost a stranger a few years from now. I won’t promise something I won’t be able to keep up. All I promise is to hold your memories close to my heart, for you have been my best friend over the years.

But he hadn’t uttered a single word.

The only sound was the plopping pebbles in the pond emanating cascading golden ripples by the setting sun.
He wrapped my hand around his like countless other times.
 Yet, something was different today. Or maybe forever !



****

P.S : Inspired from a real place but a slightly different context :)
Pic courtesy : weheartit.com 
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Mar 9, 2012

A dip


The river’s garment,
A shimmer exquisite,
Disturbed.
As was the sky’s skin,
By the sun’s rays.

Ripples that cascade,
By her white cloth, they collide.
Tiny droplets they drip,
From the tip of her nose,
To her aching bosom.

The drapes embrace,
Her painful longing.
Chastity.
Holy waters,
She dips again.

Cleansing off thoughts,
Classified murky.
Washing away desires,
Considered lecherous.

With every sunrise,
They dwindle.

Millions of droplets,
Have fallen,
From the tip of her nose,
now wrinkled,
To her aching bosom,
now sagging.

What of her aching bosom?
Memories of desires they hold, 
of an infant that once feasted, 
of a husband who once rested.
All compounded into earth’s bosom.


****
Inspiration : A picture I saw posted in my company album.
Image source : ibtimes.com
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Mar 8, 2012

Cigarette


The vehicles zip by and the crimson embers engulf by a millimeter.

He has a cigarette in his right hand, clutched between his fingers, dying away, almost past the filter.

He has a cigarette in his right hand, clutched between two of his fingers, even as his dark skin burns in the hot sun.

He has a cigarette in his right hand, clutched between two of his fingers, even as his dark skin burns in the hot sun,
 while he just wears a small blue cloth for a half lungi.

He has a cigarette in his right hand, clutched between two of his fingers, even as his dark skin burns in the hot sun, while he just wears a small blue cloth for a half lungi,
with a few coins astray on a small handkerchief spread in front of him.

He has a cigarette in his right hand, clutched between two of his fingers, even as his dark skin burns in the hot sun, while he just wears a small blue cloth for a half lungi, with a few coins astray on a small handkerchief spread in front of him,
even as dust settles on his thick unkempt beard as the vehicles whizz by him.

The others bring forth their hands to cover their nostrils but he..
He has a cigarette between his fingers of his lone limb.

 Every person, has a story; I do not know what is his. Sympathy is the last thing I have for this triple amputee.

More than 24 hours since I saw him, a slave to his addiction , and this poignant picture of the addiction just doesn't go away. :( :(

*** 
And this post was an attempt to get the infesting image out of my system.. Apologies for perplexing you guys with a meaningless write up !


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Feb 21, 2012

Malevolence


Under Evil's shadow,
they assemble!
Sons of inhumanity
And daughters of greed..

Satanic verses,
Sardonic tunes,
Venomous breaths
Selfish intentions
Malevolent desires..

Under superstition’s blanket,
they assemble!
Brothers of greed
And sisters of inhumanity..

Atrocious rancor,
they embrace..
Auspicious rumble,
they await..

To feed to a raging fire, 
A wailing suckling!

***
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Feb 18, 2012

Flowers - 55fiction #3


Taking one tiny footstep at a time, she crawled up the hill, to find the flowers of every color she wanted. Red, pink, yellow, orange and even blue! Picking two of each, she traced back her path, content.

Her father had finally returned from the war.

Smiling, she carefully laid her collection on his coffin !


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Feb 8, 2012

Sanctity

                                                                                                                                  

Sanctity is not defined by your actions but instead by your thought and the purity of your soul!
----

In deep slumber, there she was, lying like an angel amidst white and blue sheets.
The heave of her chest as she took long breaths while lost in dreamland, he could clearly see.
But, it was time for him to go, to leave her side again like every other day and head to another world .

She opened her eyes as he stretched out hand met the empty side of the bed to nothingness.
The sun’s rays caressed her skin, creating warmth enough to fight the harsh cold morning breeze.
But, she chose to keep her eyes shut, to gather warmth from his image that she saw in her dreams.

**
As the sun wore its evening clothes and the stars gathered around to see it vanish in the horizon, she crossed the streets, seemingly unbothered about the cat calls and lewd comments. She knew that her image was being violated in the filthy minds of these people but she preferred to not think of it even thought it perturbed her, subconsciously.
**
He sat there, in the dark corner, preferring to look at her eyes while the others ogled at her gyrating body.  While the others tried to lure her by offering wads of notes, he lured her with his heart. But, she kept her distance away from him, if only physically, as she circled around them in seemingly obscene yet graceful movements!

She got teens of offers being the prettiest of the lot, but when she stepped out of the green room, after washing away the thick layers of makeup, while the beads of sweat still clung to her, reminding her of the act, she could see him awaiting for her like every other night, to cleanse her mind just like the gentle breeze cleansed her off her sweat and toil, while she sat behind him on his bike.

**
Their love was one of a kind, as pure as the dew drops that the cold mornings left, as pure as the breeze that the mountains summoned, as pure as the silver beam of moonlight, as pure as the silent hearts of the twinkling stars. Only that, the world refused to see it. To the world, their relationship was adulterous and immoral even! 

As they lay holding hands, conversing silently, the night witnessing the sanctity of their pure relationship as opposed to the several other society defined yet impure relationships, he leant over and whispered “Will you marry me?”

The silence that followed reverberated louder than any cacophony but all she said was “Yes” forgetting for just one minute that she had mouths to feed who solely depended on her, while he made a silent promise that he wouldn’t come in whatever way she chose to live for her own reasons which he perfectly understood and respected!
 ***

Some relationships, we might not see clearly, but each of them have their own purity !

****

P.S : Happy proposal day !

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Feb 7, 2012

The letter !



Her fragrance is fresh and rejuvenating. Her purity evident from the way she looks.
I feel a sense of divinity engulf me as I look upon the beauty that she is.

Each layer of hers adds to the mystery and to her, beauty.
She has the immense capability to hurt the one who gets close to her.
Yet, it seems that she has been revered since eternity!

I had always wondered why she was the most chosen one.
I had pondered, amused at times even looking at the attention she managed to grab every time.

I look at her closely, not for the first time. But, my questions vanish. Feelings of doubt?
Not today, not now, for I am in love!

**
I am in love with the rose that rests in my hand. I am in love with its deep red color, with the beautiful layers that it has encompassing a feeling inexplicable, with the water droplets that rests on the layers, with its long green stalk.

For, today, I finally understand why it is used as a symbol of love. It is like love itself, alluring you towards the feelings it can create, and it is like love itself because it has the capability to hurt you with its thorns. It symbolizes love perfectly - the magic and the hurt!

And what's a better gift than this to symbolize what feelings I garner for you?

Especially that you yourself are like a flesh bloom of rose. You stand, firm, tall and beautiful, with a strong foothold and no airs around, as delicate and as sensitive as the rose. A harsh breeze or a rough handling, can crumble it, just what I did to you often and sometimes you showed me the power of thorns with your actions. But somehow, you stood by me, helping me pave my way to success.

Today, when I look back, I see how little I cared for you, of how easily I kept myself away from this beautiful feeling of love.

When I see the young man over there, hold his girl's hands, looking into her eyes while she smiles, I realize what I have missed.

Today, knowing the truth, it is different. I always thought I was habituated by your presence and only felt affection for you other than the sense of responsibility I had. Knowing, you are going to be gone forever, I am scared.

Thankfully it is better late than never. Because I know the power of it !

"I love you."

Thirty two years since I saw you in the bridal wear, that too only after I tied the knot and it is strange that I have taken so many years to tell you this little thing that I am in love with you. The three words aren't sufficient to let you know how much I am in love with you  - in love with your grey eyes that express every feeling I can understand, in love with your high cheek bones that support the most beautiful smile, in love with your strong will, in love with your stubborn nature for putting your foot down when I am wrong, for fighting with me when I hurt you or ignore you, for giving a taste of my own bitter medicine at times, and for making up for being too harsh on me, for curing my ailments with your tender touch, for standing by me even after youth and strength have deserted me.

As the youngsters today inch closer to celebrate the supposed day of love, I promise to inch closer to celebrate days of love- every single day starting from this day!

Happy rose day, my darling wife !

When you finish reading this letter, you can find me in our garden, planting a rose sapling so that I can present to you a bloom of rose along with my love, affection and my entirety every single day!

Loads of love,
your aged new Romeo ;)




****
P.S: Years after shunning the entire V-day concept of encapsulating love (something I believe needs more than a single day) in a day and all the other days that precede that, something hit me today and I am all mushy-gushy, thankful and what not !!
So here, I dedicate this post of mine to my loved ones, who are extremely dear to me, and who have taught me so much about love, affection,care,emotions and nurtured me to be the person I am.
Happy Rose day !

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Feb 6, 2012

An evening


An extensive magic canvas, 
Streaks of pink, orange and blue,
Silhouettes of birds flying across the red sun,
By the magic of the enchanting evenings he was awed,
As the cold breeze caressed him, he drew his scarf closer.
The passing  footsteps were not the sound he heard,
 
Instead, it was the clank of the coins of alms.
Memorized visions from his childhood,
Was all his blind eyes could see!



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Feb 5, 2012

The plunge !


A note : Some ideas just come and you feel the need to express them in a particular way. Most of the times, I write without a particular plot in my head, just going along with the flow of thoughts, letting my fingers type out whatever comes in my head and however it comes out. Here's one attempt in a form a writing that I personally feel that I am not good at. Hoping you all enjoy the read !

The plunge

An escape from tentacles,
Of shackles of boundaries,
The fight to free themselves,
From the withholding barricades.

A journey of success,
To a destiny they had wished for.
A splash and a scream penetrated their world.
Haplessness and distraught was all around!

The pained anxious eyes,
A moment was suffice,
The trodden path spiraled in jeopardy.
A brave heart for an undying sacrifice!

A subtle touch,
A gentle nudge,
An eye lock of assurance
Was all it took.

Taking a dive he plunged deep,
The needle ticked,
Yet time stood still,
The heart beats raced.

Muttered prayers,
Divine promises,
Clasping hands,
Binding love !

Amidst lapping waves,
Fighting the clutches of death
Dragging a little boy,
He emerged victorious.

Bargaining for life,
Battling against fate he returned
To an ecstatic proud lover;
and a little boy to a thankful mother !


**


Courage is the ability to take a plunge, knowing very well that you might have to sacrifice the trophy of your previous battle!

***

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Feb 2, 2012

The unseen rendezvous

Note : This post made it to Super 25 Shortlist of Tumbhi's short story competition 'Somewhere Sometime'.
(Link)


There were so many who she entertained,
But there was just one, for who, her heart yearned !

His short visits would never suffice. At the break of the dawn he disappeared, leaving her heart broken yet again. She would shrug it off and hide behind a mask of her happy face, alluring every passerby she found. In spite of all the attention they showered, in spite of her offering herself completely to some of them, she never felt the fulfilment that she attained in the wee hours of morning with him. The cycle continued for as long as she could remember. 

While the day progressed, she would conclude that she wouldn’t let him touch her, that she wouldn’t melt in his love, when he came for her. But, when the night gathered the dark blankets, her admirers left her all alone and her thoughts inadvertently went back to him. She held her frail heart in the bellowing wind, whispering her craving for her lover’s company.

Sometime during the night while she tumbled into the yonder of sleep, he would slip in stealthily and slowly surround her. Before she knew it, she surrendered to his cold kiss, holding him close, spending moments of pure bliss until the morning rays knocked on their door. 

Days passed, and she lost her beauty – frail and old she became! Her friends abandoned her for other beauties in their prime. She knew that she had nothing to offer to them. Loneliness was her only company! She wished for the day to go by swiftly, for the night to take over, because, even after her beauty had been vanquished, her lover had not stopped coming back to her. He did not stay longer than he did before, but each parting was different now. Difficult even, because considering her condition, they did not know if she would survive another day in the world. Savoring the little moments they shared, they continued their rendezvous, bidding many of the last good byes each and every time.

The seasons changed and the winds of fury blew. She had no strength to withstand the strong gust and gave in to meet her end.

When she was young, she had once asked him “Why don’t you stay, if you love me.”

To which, he had replied “You should know my darling, that my love for you has always existed, right from the moment I set my eyes on you, when you were just bud sealed in your protective cocoon, knowing that the cruel world waited outside to devour your beauty, but you peeped out one deep red petal at a time, slowly, confidently, swaying delicately in the breeze. I had caressed you before anyone had even discovered your beauty. I thought you loved me because you were young and did not know of the admirers that you would have, once you bloomed. But even now you wait just for me every night. I am jealous of the butterflies and bees for they can bury their secrets in your bosom throughout the day whenever you let them, but I, have just these wee hours in the morning before the sun rays touch us. I have to go leaving you alone because I want to return to you every night. I know that sometimes you wish you wouldn’t melt in my love but the truth is I melt every single day just to be with you. Our moments together might be less but remember my love, I come back only for you. The day you wither I shall annihilate my soul and join you in the ranks of the breeze.” 

The next morning when he visited, he knew she would be gone but he settled over her remains- the scattered petal that she was and the dew that he was, having the last of their unseen rendezvous!



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Feb 1, 2012

The battle - 55 fiction #2

She struggled hard, trying everything in her will to conquer it. It seemed never ending. Just as she thought she had it under control, it slithered like a snake out of her hands. Winning against it seemed almost impossible.

Exasperated, she cried out, “Why the hell is draping a saree such a painfully difficult task?”

***
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Jan 31, 2012

Fire and Ice - 55fiction # 1

"Fire and Ice" he ordered the barman; his eyes fixated at her on the dance floor as she surrounded herself with total strangers.

He lit a cigarette casually.
She alone knew of what he burned inside. Smiling, she headed towards him. 

Her icy cold lips met his,dousing the fire she had lighted, yet, again!


**

P.S : My first attempt at 55fiction

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Jan 20, 2012

Of beginnings and endings !


Every beginning has an end, I have been told a million times. I dreaded my beginning. Not because I dreaded my end; but, only because, I wanted my end to be special, unlike my predecessors, who got lost in the journey, unacknowledged or brushed off. Whenever the time came, all of them gathered to make their beginnings and I prayed to God, to delay the start of my life. While some of them laughed at my cowardice and some of them whispered about my selfishness, only one other of my kind stood by my side and told me she understood.


I read her heart and understood that she too had apprehensions about her beginning. When I stretched out my hand to her, she held it tightly and whispered softly to me “I, unlike you, do not care about my ending. All I wish is that I am one of those reserved for happiness. I hope I am born out of happiness!” She is indeed special, I thought. I knew none of us ever knew the reason behind our births. It was the part of the wicked game, god played. We were there just to serve one sole purpose- act as per the heart’s wishes.


Yet, we dared to dream and hope and wish - she for her dream beginning and me for my dream ending. The others laughed at our stupidity and some cursed our selfishness. But I, went on doing what I always did- wishing that the heart and the soul would understand me. Amidst this, she, the happy one, stayed by side. There were times when we both hugged each other tightly, praying that we would not be the next ones to go. I had grown to love her, and she me; but we knew we could never be together. Both of belonged to somebody else. Until the time came, we promised each other that we would be each other’s company. While we sat waiting and praying, we saw many others take form of their lives, fulfilling the purposes. We would too, one day; only that, it would serve our dreams too.

Unknown to us the day arrived.

My new life is nothing like I imagined. I knew it would be short a very short journey to my end. My only thoughts were of my ending, hoping that I would get what I had prayed for. I waited, not wanting to leave my cradle and the beautiful brown that I engulfed. The world outside was bright and I felt warm. I was alone with no others of my kind. I could feel myself swelling up and I knew my end was near.

Before I knew it, I was diving downwards, leaving a trail. As I journeyed further on the smooth surface, I looked back to see a beautiful flutter and I fell in love with the heart that commanded me. How foolish of me to have thought of my ending, this journey was enough. My life was worth every tiny second that I lived. I thought of my companion wishing she would love her journey as much as I did. Was she just behind me or was her time a different one! Of this, I had no idea. I closed my vision and braced myself to meet my nearing end. I sparkled one last shine, waiting to hit nothingness.

**

“Now that you are mine, I wish you heart would never experience any pain. And if it does, I promise, I shall kiss away all your tears starting from this one”, the man told his newlywed wife, looking into her tear filled brown eyes adorned by thick black eyelashes, as he pressed his lips against her cheek, where the lone drop of tear rested almost about to fall. The prayers were answered and the tear was indeed special, the first one to be kissed by a loving heart.

The woman's heart swelled with happiness and out came the happy tear sparkling,tracing the same path as her companion to unite with him.

The two tear drops served their special purposes along with fulfilling their dreams of beginnings and endings.


***
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