Tag Archives: sad

Swooning with the stranger in you

You find so many things on the way. The withering leaves, shrivelling tree bark, gaily faces, drooling ones, tender leaf blade that just saw an inch of land, a sand grain holding a bead of sweat, a surgical knife with blood that many are living for, two ignorant eyes with false hopes, a harassed soul, a soul with a bunch of hard earned notes.. and many different strangers ..

Out of all these, we are all a stranger to ourselves, few interesting lost pieces, trying to find ourselves in others. Every day, every moment, we try to find the self. A beautiful stranger indeed. There are more to these tiny, imperfect things that we find on our way. To find the mysterious, creative stranger in you, look more into things, in an enrapturing way. There’s a different meaning to what you see in others. They’re broken because of something, they’re not greedy since their birth, there’s beauty behind their ignorance, there’s a flow of lines behind every broken heart. Go, find it- you’ll find yourself. A new stranger.

When I see a broken heart, I’m just a stranger helping it fix. I find a fallen leaf and I’m a stranger who’s admiring its imperfections. I’ll be swooning, with my first hard earned award in my hand and I’m that stranger who blushes looking at her love.
Just, a stranger, trying to mend your soul. By a smile or by whatever it takes.

Learning to swoon with the stranger in me, you helped me find it. If I’m a ruptured soul, dear stranger, will you help me mend it?

50 word story: Unsung chapters

One hundred and twenty three more- chapters that remained unsung, in the room’s muggy corner. I cringed under the sheets as I liked the coherence with my indefinite pain. Better than ascertaining that it will remain untouched, unsung always.

He adored her desolation more, tearing apart those many luring pages.

to find you once again

amid the canopy of shallow hearts
she discovered you
to the beat of her footsteps
singing, you walked towards her
to pallid destination, too
starting to ink you down
you seemed like an endless abyss blinding her veins from capturing yours
her scribbles of dusk were woven in corner
she scribbled
for it to stab you
walls ached for space
lone, filled with arid emotions
she walked furthermore
probing your intention
isn’t it you who should test?
on a berm
she lost you, abrupt
a thing she feared
under the flickering yellow
still walking over
hoping to find you
once again

i’m not

i sat near the hen’s coop
trying hard, to understand Newton
for the test next day
waited, for the night to pass
it seemed stagnant
it tested my patience

my mind occupied with guilt
i was sorry, had to convey somehow
to the tall, slim boy, my friend
we fought; so silly of me, i thought
as i put aside Newton’s theory
 just wanted to go to school

awkwardness crept in
as i sat near him
i was scared to kick start
eye contact was a distant possibility
my heart thudded
dumbness invaded me, i thought

if i don’t speak, guilt will hang on
even after my death
because intense was my fault
opened my mouth, so
to speak up ‘hey’
but! something else spoke

strangers entered,
with weapons i’ve just heard of
they aimed at one, then one more, then another
as if their thirst is never ending
shot the pure ones with no mercy
yes! the guns spoke

i cringed under my bench
watching my classmates’ blood drip
i felt a sudden chill
when my friend grabbed my hand
i thought he bent down to hide
i was a fool, i realised

his blood was flowing down my pant.
his eyes met mine
for the last
i whispered “i love you, you’re mine, don’t leave me”
this is much more than a sorry
but he can’t listen
respond
i’m not a happy survivor
i’m not