Where are the stars?

There's no hope of the smoke settling, even the nights seem blurry and bleak. Peeping my head out of the balcony, I desperately wished for the sight of the shining dust, I wished for magic. For once I thought it was the city lights that kept away the shimmers on the sky, but it wasn't. Nor was it because of the lighthouse lamps. It couldn't at all be the floating lanterns for they appear only once or twice a year. I kept wondering if the stars were under a massic mood swing like me, not wanting to show their face! But how can they stay away from their missy moon for so long?

I couldn't decipher it because it was never visible, it was gradual like slow death. So slow that it skipped our gaze. But now it's obvious, before our eyes, existent and evident. And not us, but the stars had to pay the price, the price of their existence.

I am still on the balcony, pondering over a gazillion things, thinking what if I had listened to granny, she had put her heart and soul in believing that our ancestors lived above the sky and they visited us gliding over the stars, signalling us with a spark of love. And here I am dying to find one such star for my granny loved me too much. But today I realize that, maybe it wasn't about faith, maybe it was their excuse of keeping a check on the sky, for who knew if anybody was bothered about the stars, midst the beaming crescent moon.

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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...

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...

This is Where I Belong.

I am here today, dawdling back on the days, hours, minutes and seconds, that haven’t paused to wait for me to heal, that have drifted past as I remained still in the same place, reminiscing the numbness as I walked out your door. The tangible and the intangible cascade of feelings that I grew out of, explains just how inexplicable it’s always been with you, and always will be. Sometimes, I wonder what went wrong , how much of myself I left in you, and in the wake of us. It had never been like a perfect narrative, but it wasn’t all shortcomings and flaws! Trust me, you were the person I wanted to plunge into the future with. To get strange, sad, beautiful and sometimes a little gross. It was never about settling down but more fondly about taking off with you, to new adventures, horizons and life. But now, I no longer want to go back in time and love you harder. I don’t belong in there and this is my knowing that life goes on. There is more to life than just chasin...

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