For all the Butterflies lately.

I had waited with impatience for this day, for all the fabrication to move and to feel that tickle within… to be glad without much reason… to stare down all the irony and to deny everything else for that one person. I was quite fearsome of my imperfection, what if I never stood a chance? And so the apprehension remained… But now… to be frank I don’t think I could afford to have a lot of rules about love. Because every step of that way he keeps mocking my tiny apprehension… like at the moment I am so special and I love that about him. Not just it, excusing me for giving in to my impulses like almost the time… I love that about him. He had something else going for him, I still don’t know why I am not able to name it. But it’s like I want to do everything and anything possible to get that look of trust on his face. I still don’t have the slightest idea … maybe love could be a heavy word…

PS : I am oblivious of what I’m scribbling.

Comments

Rains And Ruins.

W ords should not be kept for later because they thrive on mood and my mood is nothing less than a pendulum, so I thought I should pen it down. It's not Monday today but I still got the blues. When I say blues, I literally mean the bluish tone in my otherwise curtain-coloured reddish room, along with the pretty melancholic climate. I hate the dark clouds that get clogged in the sky refusing to pour in, but I love when it finally rains. It's like the clouds have vented out their long-held pain. It feels liberating and very refreshing. I don't quite feel like working in this climate, rather I would be sitting on my terrace, watching the rain, sipping tea (which I am doing even now to avoid falling asleep on my laptop). But the sad truth is I can't go up on my terrace, not at least for the next 2 months, the renovation works are going on and I badly miss the only beautiful, picturesque location in my house. The staircase bricks are cracked to build newer ones and there...

“If you survive, you must remember that I love you”

Despite being in immense pain, the young mother still thought about her only child. The depth of intimacy for her child was immense, unfathomed and ever so subtly conveyed that a mother's love is far greater that anything in the universe. During the Japan Earthquake, the world sensed the strongest pull of humanity in a young mother who made shield of her body to protect her child amidst the disastrous collapsing. She left a note saying, “If you survive, you must remember that I Love you”. Her body was sputtering, rasping and pitch cold, but her ultimate sacrifice was the protective affection for her little one. It gets me thinking, of all the awful lot of drama, anxiety, anguish and contradictions for the several years. This small thought of appreciation is for you mother… my brilliant, remarkably independent, capable, fierce, gorgeous woman, whose greatest pride is in being my father's wife, and in being my mother. She is such a true character, in every sense of the ...

CAPTIVE

I hate the cold. I hate the numbness. I hate the dampness that covers the window pane. But today you could say I was all blinded by the freezing intensity. My naked body crave to be touched… a gentle tap to stir me up. I am not used to this nudity, but it matters less when the soul seems shrouded and stiff as stone. How can I feel so unbelievably numb yet be crying so profusely deep in? I try to lift my body only in vain for I feel some one’s still there on top of me. My fingers part way, I feel them shivering. They run through the glass pane gently moving the mist. A glance out scanning the cold world, and I catch a pleasing sight of a woman, brushing her child’s hair. Her fingers gently going through the curls and her lips quietly moving. It should be that special song. The song that pours out the peace of a mother’s heart. Mother used to sing me one, rock me in her lap. I wasn't a baby then… still it was sweet, the only lovable bits of my broken childhood. My eyes are strain...

SIGNATURE STANCE

Search This Blog