Winter

                In the womb of hills, the little wooden cottage is empty. No more is the fire kindling there, and no more the bed is warm. Through the window she looks at the snow descending and settling over the pavement while she longs for his return. Winter is the time of year that brings forth the memory of the heights of her love. As the mist descends in the morning, it reminds her warmth of his embrace, of cuddles and of the infinite love. A slight touch of cold wind, reminds her of his silent promise of never leaving her alone. The chilled darkness reminds her of their whispers and of their world that were their alone. The memory of that rose petal dawn fills her heart with sweet pain. It makes her happy because at that time she was someone that she can never be again and it makes her sad because those beautiful moments were very short-lived. Everything that they did is now the ghost that haunts the empty house of midnight.  But at the same time they are very dear to her.  Although, she tries not to think of him, her love put claws in the sky, she kisses the wind. She speaks his name, when she is alone.

             Nothing seems real to her. All she wants is him back in her life. Denying every possibility she chooses one possibility that in everyone’s eyes is impossibility that he will return. But she chooses to put all her faith in her love and believes that he will come back like sunrise piercing the morning’s hazy mist.

the Brunt

The moment you think that you can get on with the life and everything has settled down. When you have everything around you to help you forget the past. You find yourself standing there only, scratching over the wounds, and not letting them to heal. You try to hide your incapability from your well wishers. You portray before them as everything about you and in you is back on rails. While inside you every part is waging war to break through the walls you have put around. You want to show the sores to him, to tell him nothing is back to normal. You want to run to him and hide yourself in his embrace forever. But you know that nothing of this is going to happen, that the person you want the most is the one who wants to see you in this mess the most. You seem tired of daily show. All you want is to lay down all the pretence and tell him you have won. But that would mean that you will brood on ending your life. Yes you are doing it. But just for the people who love you, who want to see you blossoming, you live. You bear the brunt.

AJMER and my friend

Ajmer is going to be seperated from me. again, i will be a loner going on new destinations but the memories of the turbulent times through which i went through is going to remind for ever about the kindness and accepting nature of ajmer. i have done things here which nobody could have expected from me, neither had i but the merciful soil of ajmer took care of the wanderings and flights of my head and heart and managed to give me soft landings. silence and quietitude of this place soothed the wailings of my soul.

            this terrific equation of me with ajmer is all due to my friend who is an embodiment of the characteristics of ajmer. in the winepress of sorrow, he used to guide me through it. this bond between two of us which is being cemented by the bad times is going to last for long. his laugh which is like a golden sunray peircing through the dark inked sky and his eyes that twinkles, opening and closing like stars being born and being quenched. everything of him gives me a concrete satisfaction that i am not alone, that i have one friend who is equal to many. he held my hand when i was abandoned, when i was left alone to drown. i remember how he used to spent hours in consoling me. i will never forget the love and care that he bestowed over me. everything that he did for me is hard for anyone to imagine but in real sense he taught to deal with life, to love and to laugh. for me he is that prince about whom every girl. from the pages of a fairytale he has come and he has really rescued me from the darkness in my life and made me fell in love with his city, with his people. with him world seems to be a completely different place. a place that is rosy and fragrant, where there is all happiness. his presence makes everything seems still and faintly luminous and the air sweet to breathe, as in a thicket drenched with showers. i dont know now how to sum up my feelings. a lot more is left unsaid but i have no idea how to give them a proper form. so i prefer to end here, saying that this place has blunted the knife of life on the wounds of my heart and has made it tolerable to live.

it HURTS

it hurts when you get to know that every person to whom you turn to is ready with a stake to drive it through your heart. everything that you look up to is going to come right in front of you crashing. i have been through this alot more to end my lifetime and all those who have hurt me is going through their best times. right now i am hearing from those who pretends to care about me. there is something happening to me that the higher power and my past love wanted uit to happen to me. my heart is now being dried of all emotions and sentiments and i am just like a perfect scrapebook for the people to write anything they want. they all have used me and they are using me as if i am a toy of amusement for them and the fun part of all this is that i am letting this to happen to me because i want to be loved even when all i get is opposite of it but even the fake ones gets hold on to me and i let myself go with it despite of knowing that all i am going to get more backs turned on my face and more wounds on my heart. nothing have changed, not even a bit. the primal reason for my exitence has abandoned me. and now everyone is waiting my heart to explode.

down the memory lane

beneath the baked bowl of sky, he was standing outside the car and my heart was as clean and hungry for love as a monsoon morning in the gardens of Malabar. he blinked once, twice as if severing the thread of daydream with his thick lashes. as he was about to enter into the car, his friend said, "hey, go back, to your girl."as my heart squealed in happiness, i saw him pushing the canoe of love and passion for me into the sea of my expectations. he took me in his arms the moment he got in. the car began to move while all the gates of passion opened. we loved widly, madly and ferociously. i saw the colour of his eyes changing to that of sand, in the palm of your hand, a few minutes before the sun sinks below the sea. i fell fearlessly into my fate. we both got intoxicated in eachother; a loveliness filled our eyes, and crushed us into silent, unbreathing awe. the moment came when we had to fall apart, a grave expression passed across us like a cloud shadow sinking over smooth hills, on a sunny day. i calmed my heart by saying that its just the beginning without knowing that for him it is the end.

the brooding

When I look people hurting those I love, I end brooding over their deaths by my own hands. But like hamlet I fail in executing them and I swear to god that’s too frustrating. I have been reading Rohinton Mistry’s short stories “tales from ferozsha bag” and I found myself in the shoes of the characters that he portrayed. I feel what it is to lose someone you love, I feel the pain of that son and father who metaphorically are miles away from each other, I feel what it is to accept the blunders that your children make. The emotional side of every person present in those pages of the stories was felt by me because I think I have seen them around and because I think I am one of them. The precipitate of all the broodings is that The frustration, the despair and the guilt breathes in every soul around, that There is no redemption and that there is nobody who knows how to seek it. It is heart ripping when you have to live with the past that breathes in your present.

                                           Most of the people feel that they have no emotions that they are the most practical ones who know how to live in the present but actually they have those unquenched desires peeping through their hearts every now and then. And what they end up doing is weighing them all with their mind's whisperings and hushing them up in the far corners of heart. That is pathetic. they cry over their pillow, at nights. They carry on with their lives, fighting every moment with their unsolved miseries. My heart also, one of the trapped, feels the same. The memories of past recedes and returns like waves moving on the great ocean of the heart. That hug, which told me the insecurities and desperation of his heart, is unforgettable. It said loud that I don’t want life without you. That moment is engraved in my heart so deeply that all the betrayals and knife like words seems nothing. Memories like this is unbearable to all of us, we pretend to smile, to let the waves of time erase the memories that once blossomed our hearts. We all lie to our own selves and we all are demons inside our hearts who wants to break through all the societal norms. But many of us fail to gather the courage to break them and fail to understand that there’s nothing wrong in achieving what you want the most. But everyone has their own reasons – one chooses to live with the gnawing past and other is forced to live with gnawing past.

being with SPIDERS

From past few days I am having these uncanny encounters with spiders. This eight legged insect pounce over me from I don’t know where. The first encounter was very weird, I was on my bed, reading a novel, and then from a thin air it descended sheeewwwwww paaatt. I think she liked being on my book because she sat there with her eight legs spread on the yellow page of my novel. She was yellow in color too with disproportionate legs and she looked helpless, alone and so small. So I thought not to kill it but let her enjoy in my room. I tilted my book from which it slides on my floor, smilingly; I went to open the window when I saw another spider staring back at me. Oh man, she looked vicious but I thought to ignore her presence. I was feeling sleepy as it was half past two in the morning. In the morning came the shock of my life. Aaaaaaaaah, I saw the skin of my shoulder swelled and red. I ran here and there, whole day, not knowing what to do than everything became blurring.  

                         After fainting, I woke up directly in the morning. Darning needle in the small horns of the morning, I saw my mobile tootling out. I found that it’s my friend calling. I almost yelled on him and had the feud on. I told him to take me to the doctor immediately. My brow was sicklied over with the pale cast of thought. At last he came and we went to the doctor. It was strange, odd, and eerie and everything that makes your heart totters. The office we entered was empty. But soon a man came; he had over baked oiled skin that was shinning under the sheen of yellow bulb. His outer crust was indeed of a nature to cause those beholding it to rock back on their heels with a startled whistle. He asked me to speak about my problem. Instead of speaking I preferred to show my problem with teary eyes. “its getting bad. Take these medicines and apply this ointment and meet me after three days. “He said while scribbling over a piece of paper. I understood at that moment that this is the end of all the kindness that I had for spiders.