Solitude filled with songs of the past memories is something out of this world. It allows you to replay the film of your life and watch the part you like the most. One moment You get high on rewinding the happy skies and the other moment you are dissolving in grief on recalling the brutal lies.She opened the old letter to read it again. It was still fragrant with his scent just like the memories which were still fresh in her mind. The paper had started to turn yellow and so did her advancing skin. 

Setting her spectacles on her nose she started to read it.

The lavenders present in the vase beside her began to exhale more strongly to fill her breathes with their aroma. 

Suddenly, she was eighteen again.

“One day, you’ll sit on your couch and the sun will shine smoothly over your skin;

You’ll replay your old songs and the tears will still sting.

You’ll hear my voice in the rhythms of your songs;

Then it’ll struck to you that it were my arms to where you belonged;

But Sweetheart, I am afraid, I will not stay that long.”

He had said it a day before he left her. His voice was gloomy and quivered with fear.

She flinched and All the wrinkles returned to their original place. 

She left her suffocating chair and went out to watch the night sky.

“I’ll be with you like the Moon. If I don’t come, i’ll send the stars for you. Just remember that, I’m here with you no matter what.”

He had promised her that night when she was the most insecure about life. She had put all her trust on him when the time had taken her trust from her own self.

She smiled and the wrinkles returned more ferociously to their place this time.

She drooped her eyes to watch the busy road. A car advanced towards her street with its headlights piercing through the darkness of the night. 

Suddenly the calm air was filled with chaos; sharp headlights, screaming, blood, car honking and cries. 

She shut her eyes and turned her back to the road. She tried to find the moon. She failed to locate even a single star.

“I’ll send the stars, I’ll be here.”

Her head was pounding with pain and the blood had started to rush with a great force across her old veins. Her face was pale but her eyes, blood shot.

“I am afraid, I might not stay that long.”

It rattled in her head. She looked in the sky to find a star for one last time. There were dark clouds swallowing her stars.

She found nothing. He was gone.

She blacked out.

Poetry and Umbrellas.

We look towards the stars to guide us in our ways. We look in their ways to find us a home-place. We rest our heads on work-desk lids to find solace in sleep. We wake up having our heads heavier and hearts weak. Nothing seems to heal, nothing seems to end. Neither when we sing nor when we pray with our head bent.Maybe one day the sleep will betray us too and maybe one day it’ll leave us in death’s hue. I try to be poetic about my agony but the words are reluctant to dance in symphony. All I see is my blood losing it’s color. The sun is going blur and I can’t see you clear.

Red and worn out an umbrella went drowning with the rash waves of river. Stormy and tragic stood the night with its sky queer. I figured it belonged to some fragile doll. But, All I can see now is a hope’s funeral.

“Mind if I share my umbrella with you? It’s raining and You might catch a cold.”

He interrupted the drip-drop of rain drops echoing in her numb ears.

“No, I am fine without it.”

She replied in a low tone.

“Why did you threw your umbrella away?”

He asked, on seeing the floating umbrella, astonished.

“It was torn by betrayals and stained with my blood. I threw away my regrets with a hope to find relief.”

She explained.

“Did you find relief?”

He asked.

“Yes. It didn’t take away any regret but, I am relieved from keeping any hopes at all.”

She posed a painful smile.

It kept raining in front of their eyes. Never in their life they find a morning to their night.

So, tell me where do I find an instant cure, for the pain is hers and only hers to endure. So, tell me the funeral you did secretly, for this world showing nothing but its misery. So tell me if the abandoned boats ever find a shore, for the captain’s tales are getting me bore. 

So tell me if you too kill a part of you every night for I see darkness in your words and no light. 

I asked my words to be poetic about you. They pointed towards the dark in eyes of you. 

I end it here for my nib is bent but remember that the ocean in your eyes has no end


…Something is missing in everything but, what is it?

The sun had set and the faithful birds were returning to their homes. 

She watched a sparrow struggling to reach her home on time. Her wings finely cut the air and she glided away with all her might. She closed her eyes. 

Some words were scribbled on the note-pad laying in her lap.

Life is a beautiful thing. You can’t eradicate it from your existence. Sadness eats it out. It’s that monster that creeps across your soul and clenches your heart to block the light from entering in you. Unknowingly, it eventually becomes a part of your existence and at that point you are unable to complain about the things for you were the one who chose it for yourself. 

You start to give up and fall apart once again.

“One day, you’ll return to your home. All your struggles will be rewarded. You’ll find peace.”

He said, trying to ease the anxiety in the air she exhaled.

She opened her eyes and watched blankly across the sky. She Stared until another sparrow crossed her sight and flew away.

“Only Those who have a home return to their home. I belong to nowhere in this world. 

What’s the use of struggling then?”

She exhaled a sigh.

The call of evening prayer echoed in her numb ears. She handed the note-pad in his hands and left her seat.

He looked down to the note-pad to read rough expressions.

“I see sky but, no hope. I am waiting for the blood to dry out from my veins and my lungs to stop the choking breathes. 

I am waiting to return into the skies for world has no place to where I belong. 

I give up.”

He closed the note-pad and searched for another sparrow. Another hope.


There come people in your life that bring out the stars in you. Then there are these people who bring out the dark in you. Then in the end, there come those people who bring out the extremes of everything in you. Faces fade away with time. Maybe they just change on the harsh strokes of time. Maybe nothing fades away and its just we who drown in our ignorance with a hope to find relief. With a hope to find release. You may forget the faces. It’s okay to forget the faces. But, you can not forget the feeling they bring to your heart. You can not avoid their scent that hugs you in their absence. 

The feeling is what we call “Home”, the scent is what we call “wind”. 
“How does it feel like to be with him?”

I asked as I sat by her side.
She sat by her lake with her feet soaked into the cool water. The moonlight gleamed over the water and her ankles sparkled on the surface. 
“It’s like a flame left on the mercy of night wind. It flickers and gets bright and sometimes it dwindles upto non-existence whenever the wind embraces its warmth.”

She replied. I knew that she would tell only the stars part and that’s all she told.
“Your eyes weave dreams.”

I tried to show my admiration. 
“It’s him that resides in them. 

If that’s what you call dream.”

She smiled and kept on plucking the petals from a fallen rose. 
“Are you afraid that your dreams might break? Are you afraid you might lose him?”

I asked. 
“No, I am not.”

She plucked off the last petal. It fell into her lap with all the other petals.
“Are you afraid of anything?”

I asked differently.
She looked straight into my eye.

“I am afraid of losing myself while being with him. Which I am sure that I will. Which I am sure that I am.”
This is how devoting yourself to love is. You lose yourself, let it be your material posessions, let it be your soul, let it be your dreams, let it be your faith. 

Devotion is toxic yet it calms your heart like nothing else can. 


Delicate and fuzzy, a Dandelion twirled between her fragile fingers. Her eyes danced with its movement and several dreams whirled in the brown haze. She sat by the lake and watched the Sun taking refuge in its cool water. 
“Make a wish and blew it away.”

I took it from her hand. 
She blinked in surprise.

“No, It’s beautiful. 

We always blow the beautiful things away by imposing our wishes on them.”
“Don’t you want him?”

I tried to persuade her.
“How can I?”

She drooped her sight to her knuckles.
“A fish can never own a sea.

A bird can never win the sky.

A star can never conquer the Universe.”
She smiled as a dew drop left her eye and fell on the dandelion.


I had heard them say that woods keep secrets. I didn’t believe in it just like I didn’t believe in magic before I met her. 

We are all ought to take a journey to woods in our lives; the paths where we meet a companion, whisper our darkest secrets to them with a faith that one day, the woods will burn in a fire taking away our scariest faces.
“I am grateful that our paths met.”

I said in a low tone. 

She smiled. 
The twilight had casted a spell on the air between us. The sky was full of bright stars but no moon. I witnessed two auroras beautifying my world; one that crawled across the dawn sky and the other one that dwelled in her brown eyes. Though, never in my life did I find a match to the latter one. 

We walked across the dark woods and mumbled our secrets to each other. 

We walked, sharing fractions of our lives and whispering vows in the dark until the path divided into two. 
“My journey with this world ends here.”

She said in a firm voice. Her face calm and glowing. 
“Where is your destiny?”

I asked. My voice trembled with fear.
“I have yet to cross one final path.”

She said.
“What is it?”

I asked. My body Sweating but strangely I was no more afraid.
“The path that leads to Him. The one shown by light.”

She pointed towards the rising Sun. 

The horizon had now come out of the blanket of twilight. 
“Promise me you’ll meet me there?”

I asked for a last vow. A tear rolled down my eye.
“I promise.”

She smiled and crossed the boundary, separating herself from my world. 
She was gone never to return; leaving me lost in the darkness of my woods despite of the Sunshine that lightened up the rest of the world. 

Sometimes, a path is meant to be crossed by us but, not belonged to us forever. 

Midnight Breeze. 

“What’s with you and this midnight breeze? You always seem so consumed and electric on its touch.”I asked out of my curiousity. 
Every night she would sit by the barricaded window, turn her face to the narrow patch of sky and tremble on the chilly strokes of wind. It was the only time of the day I could see her peaceful and full of life, just like the other lively girls. 
I had always loved they way her hair slipped away and then back to her milky cheeks on receiving gentle tugs of the cool wind. 
She closed her eyes.

‘It feels like him.’ 

She replied taking a heart-full of fresh air inside her while a smile danced on her dried out lips. 
“What it takes to be happy..?”

I opened my mouth to utter her name but couldn’t. I sighed. 

A plain reply left her mouth.
“Murder of what?”

I asked. Astonished. 
“Of your never-ending desires.”
An imprisoned tear escaped her eyes and rolled down the cliff of her cheeks. 
Maybe she was right. Maybe our increasing wishes compel us to have more. Maybe we forget to live in what we have in worry of what we might never have. 

Maybe life would never be the way we want it to be. Maybe letting go of yourself is the only choice sometimes. Maybe forgiveness is all what we need from ourselves.
I convinced myself that the only time in which I could ever get the enough of her was right there and then. 
She was soon driven into a calm sleep as the wind continued to caress her hair.