Down the woods

"Why didn't you come that day knowing you were the only one I could be waiting", she sighed and waited for a response from his part. That day was impermissible, the wind was blowing silently and the sky was a lil infuriated as if they all could sense the broken pieces of hers. It was indeed a silent night with thousands of untold words which kept on buzzing into the nerves and everything by her side were whimpering seeing her demolished. She stared at him, with trembling hands and scared soul she somehow framed herself to ask "I hope we are still the same, aren't we?" That 10 seconds were feeling like a decade to walk onto, still she stabilized herself, continued gazing at him with head strolling high and hopes lowering dot by dot with every blink of hers. "I think, no! Can't you see, neither you are the same, nor I am" he stated, quite fiercely with eyes rolling and back stretching to get up and leave, forever. Not that forever, which she mea...

It was a stormy night when everyone lost hope to breath for the last time, she somehow put her fear aside helpless, desolated. That very night was an exemplar for the demise of her faith and patience. Every seconds were flashing on her front where she sobbed, ripped, shook and stood still with no magic in heart when the disastrous wave yelled so loud with its open bare wings tugging her towards the pan of drowning emotions.  The fright on her sight was flaunting, her hands started trembling, and she could barely breathe to see the gigantic demolition of her. She couldn't resist and fall apart losing every drop of hope, was shattered like broken pieces which she even could not pick and fix it, her eyes lowered down as if its accepting the defeat in the battle of demons, where her cowardice was garlanded. She could hardly think more when the wave pulled her on its devastating lap. It was a barren land of mercy where a thousands of ruthless hearts she could trace. She fell down lif...

One fine Sunday evening she was sitting on the edge of casement, pushing herself down the lane of the juncture which she called once "her life". A lass was she, who was apparently loved by everyone on her side, who used to live like the only mortal within the space, who loved to love and used to laugh like the world settled down for every count of her breath, out. She had a bunch of mates who witnessed her idiocy and quite evenly her days were passing by.  It was just an another day when a nightmare crossed on her dream pathway and stopped, smiled at her as if a balmy wave covered her up on its soothing lap, caressing her hair, mumbling into her ears some candy words which laid her on a nap until the calm wave turned into a ruinous storm and made her get awake with trembling fingers and overflowing eyes. That nightmare wasn't just a fear to resist but it threw her deep into the molten lava to get cooled down. she sighed pushing back her fringe out of her eye and count...

Dreams, hopes, desires are half burnt by now But I want me to rise up, I ask myself, how? Is twenty just a age or the cracks at my hub? I wonder being callous, no matter how it goes. I stared myself for so long, to figure out the things I am blamed for It turned out to be a mishap, I counted a lot, I am ashamed for Those folks weren't wrong, it was my ruining hand, indeed! But let me interrogate, was it me who sown the seed? The inside me burst out, screaming so loud Seeking for the reasons which dragged my soul out I am not stating, I dint deserve those wounds I smiled, when the nun side by me spoke, "painful, it sounds" Walking down the woods, the crisp air whispered, "Be a good soul and stroll with head high", my ears heard I walked on and on beyond the frontier of my control And wished for a better path ahead to roll...

Loyalty goes far, and devious down, sounds quite soothing. It's freaking obvious that which pierce less into the nerves, connects more with heart. I m signing in to this very subject coz I have been through such locus. We the homosapiens have always one thing to reprise and that's enacting mistake, sometimes blunder. But that doesn't put our legs into the bars, we have to pass on, upto the edge of their's infinite reach. World is surely a beautiful phrase to acclaim but merely a deficient one to let go. Every face here has a pie to scroll down beneath the presence. Well yes, I have counted mine too. Every hand is not a helping hand n every mouth has not true idioms. We walk on a corridor of flames where we don't burn our legs but surely devastate feelings. Heart with feelings n mind with agony can reach destination, this is what we think but in fact this is not the case. Why to be so profound in thoughts, someone just exclaimed me. I am not being deep enough to...

People, they say are a menace, perhaps true. I have been across a scads of folks and what I realized is, its not the mortals who vacate their footprints of rejoice, warmth before us, but actually its the evocations which squeezes our mind to turn out it's fondness from the eyes.  I remember the era when I used to have a mate, I can't reveal the tag. The fellow who can be potrayed as my memoir. A bond which has never stretched across my border of purity. The keen beam of ours was worth narrative about the relation we drained. Those chilled twillight must have adored our deep link of conversation, our affection beneath the layer of foul notions. The canteen, classroom, even the library has spotted the shadow of our insanity. The breakfast table can recount the love we shared. Friendship, well we realized it as a minute pendant to wear for us, we were no more just peers. He used to yell bespeaking me "maa" making me discern nurtured towards him. From that hand o...

"Do I look like a freaking insane? Why should I care if he doesn't?" She yelled and strode down the terrace hitting the doorway. It was pretty ample for a mom to be maimed, going down the villa of memoirs she kept burried beneath the sentiments of attache some 26 years back. "Congratulations mam, you are blessed with a loving daughter" the sister surpassed her contentment. That night was absolutely not a leaning one for the young liberated lady who pampered her wombs for 9 long months, imploring single bit of her clock to reproduce a lad, not because a tot is a curse, just to win a miniature of love from the one she skips a bit of heart just through a glimpse, her spouse. It was 2 November 1992 when she picked the choice of holding his hands, she called the love of her life. The nature itself was partaking in the glee of the newly married couple. Everywhere it was the smiling faces which added up the bulk of amusement to a height. That day was a craving stone...