Borrowed Time.

Crumbled pages lie silently at the corner of the room as the ink went dry, the thoughts astray. The mind was a fighting a war within itself. The heart, well it did it’s job, without a care in the world. The walls absorbed the silent screams. The prayers resonated in the enclosure, breathing the aroma of its depth and finally settling at a nice corner of the room. While the night danced in the glory of the dark, the silence prevailed in the epiphany of the mind and all around. ” Tick. Tock. Tick. “

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The echoes of pain glorified the dark corners of the ignited mind. What was wrong? What was happening? Questions piled up, like the torn off pages flickering in the silent monotony of the cold breeze which had the half laden thoughts of the days not yet come.

Words. An anagram playing in the multitude of emotions, thoughts and whatnot. A random apprehension of a sophisticated mind. Why are they so far away? Why can’t they come closer? What do they mean? Why don’t they make sense? Is this the right script? Does this reach your heart?
He stared at the mirror long. He tried to look into himself, through the very fragments that kept him together, intact, as broken as he might be inside. He wanted to see what was inside of him, how broken can a person be. He wanted to see what he was made of, whether the broken memories ever heal. He was searching for something within himself, something he felt missing. He was not sure what. He was not sure why. There were questions that haunted, haunted as the answers were just more questions.

Letter. They were letters that hold the story never to be seen, never to be adapted, never to be lived. A letter, which was a warning, an indication of what went wrong. A foreword to the people to tread carefully. He had carefully handcrafted it, wrote the best god damn letter he ever could. He spoke of the misery, he spoke of the lost self, he spoke of great many deals. He ended the letter with a farewell. It was his last letter signed off with a “I am sorry, Good Bye”.

Here he was again, 10 years later contemplating over the same letter, still broken, still finding his way, still trying to perfect his last letter. The time was a factor that stopped for him a decade ago. He was a lifelessly alive, stuck on the past notion, not moving an inch forward. He tried to end it, end it all, the agony, the pain, the disappointment, and in the end even his life. Time, for him was a reminiscent.

He was living on borrowed time.
The time which is not his.

______

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Solitude

The world faded in vibrant shades of people, the commotion increasing with each cheer, a smile here, a hug there, a shout here, a fist bump there.  The crowd got a little more momentum when more people joined the celebration as the music blared in the background. The ground vibrated with the joy of people dancing in their highest spirits. The air was filled with the spirit of what the people shared with each other, the bond that was so unique, pure and selfless; Friendship and Love. There was just happiness floating all around, the warmth that radiated from the heart.

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He stood there amidst the crowd as the people swarmed all around him. The feeling seemed contagious as he too was transpired in the moment and felt part of that celebrating crowd, high in their spirits; happy and content. The stars glittered ever so bright over the dome of endless sky. He loved to see how people enjoyed, and celebrated life. The happy faces were a sight to watch, the feeling shared among them was worth a memory. He didn’t dance like they did, he didn’t have company like they did, he didn’t feel what they felt, but all he did was try to sink that feeling in, something that he never had the pleasure of.

The clouds slowly engulfed the bright specks in the sky as the crowd slowly faded away to their next celebration. As the music played its last beat, the only sound that reverberated was the sound of his breath in an empty field. Of all that had happend that night, he knew this, the feeling that the ground underneath had; empty, he knew it way too well; and the sound, the silence that spread across the vastness, he knew it like he craved for it. And as reality sink in, he walked back to his home, alone, to his solitude.

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Impact Zero

How! How did I derail? How did I do this? What just happened? Why am I writing normal stuff? Why am I being so nice, I mean trying to be nice? What is happening to me? Why am I trying to be normal? Why am I trying to be sensitive to something as bizzare as this? Why!

Disclaimer Not Suitable For Reading, because no one is reading, duh! Don’t pretend you do. I would know if you did. It’s not a super power, but more of a calculated deduction.

Why do you read? Why do we read? Why does anyone read? Because we want to live a world that is a world apart from the one we live in. But mostly, we read to live the world of the person behind the book or even that small write up. It tells us so much, it teaches us, perhaps inspires us a little as well. And in retrospective, it gives us a chance to escape from the charades of life and immerse ourselves in something we can ponder over, and perhaps act as well, mostly how what we are reading drives us. But if you ask me to be frank, I never the same about the textbooks in school when compared to the fiction books I read. I would be glad if you agree as well, but otherwise, going well textbookaholic ( Yes, I create stuff occasionally).

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Now, the more important question is why do you write? The analogy as to why would anyone write differs from person to person and well, to be fair each one has a different reason so as to why would they write. Let me tell you, writing is not easy, or may be it’s just me. Writing is not easy when you think of the elements. The elements range from people’s opinions to our own stigma or are they called our inhibitions? Amidst all, we write not only to express ourselves but it is what frees us, frees up from the charades of life, frees us from ourselves. Ourselves! Interesting, right? Well, yes! Because if you could  observe the broader picture, we are the ones who keep us from writing. We give excuses saying that it is the work, it is the life happening, it is this or that and the most common of them which not surprisingly I use all the time is “Writers Block”.

This brings me to the most important aspect that I wanted to discuss, or if you care to discuss that is : What would make someone read a post? A tacky title? A provoking photo? The few lines under the title, also called as an excerpt, giving a brief about the actual post, or sometimes it’s just the first 50-60 words of the said post. Or is it the name of the writer/blogger, who wrote the post? Because I know a lot of people just don’t read the post. I have come across a wide variety of people (by people I mean bloggers, some of them friends as well), or in general, a majority of whom just don’t read the post. WordPress makes it easy to navigate through the feed of the bloggers one follow. But then again, why don’t people read the post in their Reader feed? Is it the small excerpt that somehow leads to the possible neglect. Neglect is a strong word. I would rather say ‘Like‘ the post without actually reading it. Because reading would basically generate a thought, howsoever is not always favourable most of the time, but that is what the comment section is for – to understand the others point of view.

To give a better picture of what goes in the mind of a writer is a cumulation of a million thoughts, carefully formulated to make a logical sense of the topic at hand, and while at it address the various issues at hand and probably seek help from people reading, or inspire a little, if need be. Or sometimes people just want to be heard and see if others could relate, just to assure themselves that they are just not alone. But I guess that would be asking too much of people.

This brings to the realization that why I am stressing out on so much? Why can’t I just write the stupid stuff that I usually write and be done with it. Because in my time of writing all this while, I have come across people who are not perfect. Perfect!? Such a cliche word. So, let me rephrase : I have come across people who are imperfectly perfect, because we as writers want to be heard, no doubt, but at the same time we also need that shoulder to lean on or just be there, even if one can’t offer a shoulder. I always wanted to be that shoulder or to lend a hand or just be there, listen, or perhaps just read and tell them that “It is going to be alright”.

To the imperfectly-perfect people,
I just want to tell you and assure that I am here for you, anyday, anytime. I am not perfect either. so, bear with me, we will go through the mess together.
– Imperfect being.

And like my title suggests, I want to leave an impact. People usually look for a positive outlook at life, I fail to do so, at every word I write, ever letter I carve. As a matter of fact, I do the exact opposite thing, give the glimpse of the dark side. It is a purview of a person enduring most of it. So, it is also a concern that no one else faces the same darkness, and fight those demons alone. It is just to reassure that I can’t win that battle, but I have seen Spartan, Gladiator and the likes of it. I will leave it at that.

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How! How did I derail? How did I do this? What just happened? Why am I writing normal stuff? Why am I being so nice, I mean trying to be nice? What is happening to me? Why am I trying to be normal? Why am I trying to be sensitive to something as bizzare as this, comments (what now?), people reading my blog(Am I being serious now!) ? Where did all the dark stuff go? Where is my old fried, darkness? Why am I reaching for the light? Why!

–  Enigma

Peace.

How beautiful is the pain!
How ecstatic is the relief!
How free does freedom feel!
How peace is the solace!
How beautiful are the
memories flashing!
How euphoric is the final breath!

Do you smell the shampoo, that you used the last night, a tinge of your hair spray and the cologne you used the other day! Do you feel the vibrations in your vision through your closed eyes, an animated sequence of the Windows 98 screensaver playing in your head. Or perhaps are they your memories brushing by waster than they should!

Do you see the soft satin cloth, elegantly long and neatly folded, calling out to you to open and embrace it, embrace the softness of the cloth! How comfortable would the cloth look around the neck! How much it would bring out the color in the eyes, and let’s not forget the fairness in the face! How beautiful it looks suspended in the air under the ceiling!

How cute are those tiny pleasures? A little too many for one last ride and it gives you the euphoria that you had never even expected ever. Do you feel that you are in a world, a new one altogether, or perhaps a little too far from the reach of anyone, completely oblivious of the world you are currently in!

Do you see the sharpness alluring you, calling out to you to take it in your hands and see what wonders this shiny edge could do on your arms or that slender neck of yours? How beautiful would these streaks of random lines across your arm look as an army of red marches down like a parade,  a perfect emblem for eternity, or perhaps a temporary one. How majestic would the river be that flows through each single streak?

Do you feel the cold breeze brushing through your hair, that sweet comfort that you get after a tiring day walking around in the sun! Do you feel the adrenaline rushing through every cell of your body as you come closer to the edge and take a peek down at the blurry ground beneath! Do you feel the tinge of impulse charging through your legs, an emancipation of the fear filled with the last excitement as the wind ruffles the hair under your soft heavy breaths.

Do you taste the water as it slowly engulfs you in its embrace! Do you feel the shoulders being pushed down under your own weight! Do you feel the mind going through a million things at once and your legs battle, as do your hands. Do you see those tiny balls of air escaping from you and how much you want to stop that from happening, you unfortuanately are not in control.

Because peace is what we want and sometimes, there are just too little ways to finally be in peace!

_____

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; The Chaos Theory

The walls screamed in their silence. The thoughts floated in the confinement, however deep they dragged in a bottomless sea. It is going to be okay, a few too many voices drowned in the silent loud screams. But among all the chaos that surrounded the empty thoughts, a silent tear gave it away. The emotions bundled so deep down, just overflowed in the tiniest speck of water. Hope! A fascinating eulogy that like an ink blot on a paper, spread with the tiniest touch of it. An emancipation of a thousand dreams or perhaps a bittersweet lie, like sand slipping through the hand. Because it is going to be alright. That is how the world works. Perhaps it does, for some while the other dwell in world apart with masked faces and acceptable attires. Because, we all want to be normal by getting society’s approval by how happy we look and how well we present ourselves. And Amid all the melodrama of a chaotic life, there is a line, a faintest line that either makes or breaks people.

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;

“I don’t understand why they did it?”
“They have a whole life in front of them. Then, why would they do that?”
“Don’t they think about their family?”
“What their family must be going through now?”
“It would so much painful for their loved ones, won’t it be?”
“Are they that stupid?”
“How coward can they be?”
“Tch, tch, tch”, they said feeling a little sad, for a moment though.

It’s hell. It’s a raging hell fire, a battle, a struggle to take that one step, every day. It is painful to breathe, more painful to be normal, because people demand to be normal, because being otherwise is very unnatural. And then you have to smile, smile away through (hiding) that pain, that huge burdening pain that you kept dragging behind you everywhere you went. It was perhaps the past that led to this burden, and why is it affecting the present, the future? A question that keeps haunting every waking moment. Perhaps, you finally decide to start everything afresh, everything will be different from now on, you said to yourself. You strive to make it different. You work on it, you try to give your best. But the heart is heavy with the weight, but you try to care less and fight through each string that pulls you down. Because you want to put it behind in the past and not let it affect the present and well, the future. You pretend as if everything is okay and normal and that there’s sunshine inside of you and a beautiful starry sky over your head.

But…

It was a beautiful sight. Those first rays of sunlight hitting your face, that warm embrace as it slowly rises to its glory of the morning. As the sunshine embraces you, you feel content, happy, from inside. You go to work, forgetting everything that has always pulled you down everyday, everything that stopped you from moving ahead, you move past that burden inside of you. You completely forget about everything as that cold drop of rain hits your skin. It was the first rain you felt in a very very long time. You relish every moment of it, wondering what you have missed all this while. You feel alive. It is an absolute bliss and you want to stay in this beautiful yet perfect symphony that life carefully threw at you, forever. You retire from your day under the starry skyline, as the stars twinkle in the glory of the night, a splendid sight, nonetheless, and you are sure you can tell endless stories under this dome of glittering diamonds. You finally sleep, relaxed and most importantly at peace. Sleeping never felt so relaxing.

You wake up all of a sudden as if the ground beneath you started shaking. You hope to see the beautiful sunshine from yesterday. You want to relive the previous day, each day! But, you don’t see it. There is just darkness, a familiar face you have been with for such a long long time. May be you woke up a little too early and hope that it is just a dream. But there is no sunshine whatsoever. You go to work hoping to see that glimmer of rain, that washed your past away, that washed your soul. You pray for it silently under your breath. But there isn’t any. And you retire to your home wondering to finally gaze into the endless stars and perhaps share your tiring day to the endless glittering friends far far away. But it is just dark in the sky. Not a single star. You don’t understand what is happening. You sleep, or at least try to. The whole day, the past just keeps flashing in front of you. You can’t sleep. You try to understand everything, but nothing makes sense. And in that moment when you thought you have left the past behind, comes haunting back. You try to shake it off, try your best to end that nightmare, wake up to that sunshine, dance under the rain, sing under the stars. You pray for it even though you have never been religious, but there is that familiar dark cloud over your head, that keeps following you, day and night.

You don’t understand why it keeps following you. You don’t understand why that one day it wasn’t there. Why was that day different? You don’t understand what is happening, because the past is a haunting reminder of the choices you made, which somehow decided your present and the future. You thought you could go past it, look past it, keep it locked up in the past and not look back again, ever, but it is you, your past, your memories. You want to escape this mess. You can’t listening to your horrid screams. You can’t deal with the fake smile everyday. You can’t stay bottled up all day long and write long essays on your feelings, everyday. You can’t find peace. Peace was a concept never in your mind. It has far gone and disappeared in the past. But then, how can you get past this? How can you be at peace? How can you just express? How can you finally really smile? How can you end all this mess once and for all?
The only way to end all this to end it all.

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P.S. : This post is inspired by my life, circumstances and #13ReasonsWhy. Inspired is a strong word. May be, come into picture.

A casual encounter.

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Disclaimer : Kindly advised not to proceed, if you are lesser than 18 in age. NSFR (Not Suitable For Reading, especially for kids)!

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(Continued from An Encounter ) …

They crashed on the couch while she offered him a glass of wine. A soft music played in the background and when the music in the background hit the right note, they looked at each other, into their eyes and it happened again, a spark in their eyes that called out to each other. They came a little close to each other, diving deep into each other’s eyes and they came close enough to breathe each other in.

_________

One thing led to another and they found themselves naked in her bedroom. The eyes still held each other, their breaths synchronized with each other. The eyes, their body did all the talking. He knew with the look in her eyes that she wanted this as much as he wanted. He went in slowly and as she moaned and closed her eyes in ecstasy, the voice, her voice gave him the goosebumps, which added to the euphoria he was already feeling. He paused for a second, trying to live in the moment and telling himself that this was really happening, that it wasn’t another dream he had been long dreaming and he needs to cherish every second, every moment of this. She opened her eyes and tried to search something in his eyes, may be the reason why he paused. But before she could ask she realized that she was also in the moment and they both were relishing it together. She had dreamed of this moment and it was nothing what she had ever imagined. And she found the answer in his eyes that he was feeling the same.

He saw her smile, the smile that acknowledged his thoughts, his feelings. And it excited him a little more. He went inside again, locking his eyes with her. Neither of them blinked. They were going on each other, their bodies grinding against each other, the moaning synchronized. He liker her very much, may be in a way it might seem that he even loved her.He had this idea of how delicately he would do it, how softly and diligently he would take her and cherish her like the queen that she was. But, in that moment that was out of the window. Oh, he sure wanted to cherish her, each and every inch of her, but nothing soft, nothing delicate, nothing diligently. He just wanted her, her everything and it matter where the passion lead them.

She was reciprocating his momentum, and neither of them realized how fast each other were going, the passion that they had for each other was reflected each thrust and each moan. He flipped her on the bed and he was on top of her. He held his breath as he breathed in her, her beauty that shined in the glimmering side table lights. He enjoyed looking at her. He was hungry for her, the passion that had been building up inside him was finally coming out, but he wanted for each second to count. They were still locked into each other, eyes and body. He slowly let himself out, still looking into her eyes. He bent over to kiss her. The passion flowed through the lips as their tongues battled for more. They forgot to breathe and in that moment that could care less. He bit her lips, soft as they may be, were a delight in disguise. He wasn’t getting enough of it, as much as he wanted. He continued kissing, and was even more happy to find her dwelling for the same. He released her lips for a moment to take a breath, and started kissing her neck, her ears, even biting them, then caressing them with his tongue. He slowly went down to her breasts. They were full and soft. He looked up at her, to find her staring down at him in full ecstasy, and dying of anticipation what he was going to do and hoping that he does what she has been thinking. He took her breasts in his hands and bit one of her nipple. She moaned in response. It was so soft, he felt guilty for biting it but her moan had the answer that she wanted more and he too. He then kissed them, sucked on them one after the other, changing left to right and then to left. It was such a delight to hold them, kiss them and most importantly feel them and see her enjoy as he did everything he desired to her.

He didn’t realize that time was moving, that the neighbors were shouting over something, that there was a party with loud music two floors above them. He just minded his party, the one he was very much enjoying, actually both of them were. He went further down, keeping on hand on the boob and the other searching for the vagina and while he trailed down the stomach kissing and licking every inch. And as he kissed her belly button, his hand had already reached her vagina. He started stroking it, feeling the little wetness after the small session they had a moment earlier, feeling its softness, while she moaned. She moaned more as he put one finger in and rubbed the clit with the other. He had one hand caressing her boob, the other in her vagina, and he looked up from her belly kissing, at her wanting eyes as she grabbed his hair hesitating but wanting him to go down further. He kept the eyes locked until his tongue reached the clit, that was when she closed her eyes feeling the softness over her tenderness. And he kissed and licked and dug his tongue inside her, enjoying each and every moment, her every corner and her watery juices that flowed down. She almost shouted when he took her clit into his mouth and rolled his tongue over and licked it endlessly. She held his hair trying to pull him out, the euphoric pleasure as she orgasmed.

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In that moment, he was too aroused to let the moment slip away. He let himself in as she trembled under this breath, slow and deep, relishing every moment as it slipped in, her insides grasping him, in its tightness in a warm embrace. He couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling that he was going through and neither could she. Him and her both, were in a completely new world, lost in the hazy fog, drifting over the soft clouds, transpiring from one emotion to another, all of which were a complete mystery to them both, yet they didn’t want to feel anything lesser. They exchanged their positions where she was on top of him and he looked at her in complete admiration while she rode him. There wasn’t a moment that they looked away from each other. They enjoyed each other eyes, the dilated pupils told a much deeper admiration for one another and radiated the passion in their movements. They didn’t get enough of each other. He cupped her breasts as they gave the ecstatic pleasure to each other looking deep into each other’s eyes. They could go on and on for hours, perhaps days even. He had come close a couple too many times since the beginning of their intimacy session.  And it could explode any moment now.

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That was when he pulled her back. He was almost at the brim, he knew it, she knew it. He stopped her because he didn’t want it to end so soon. He pulled her up into his embrace. She sat on his face, wrapping him. Their bodies exchanging the warmth, his mouth under her, the honey juices flowing down as he dug deep into her with his tongue, as he smelled her sweet honey. He rolled, licked, sucked and kissed and took in deep her. She had lost count of the times she had orgamsed that night. And he didn’t stop when she shivered under the high of her hundredth orgasm. His hands around her thighs held her grounded on his face as he continued to kiss her wet and tender pussy. She wanted him to leave her, she didn’t want him to let her go, he was in a complete euphoria in the moment. As he slowed down, and let his grasp loosen a bit, she slid down and sat on his hardness. It was her time to take what she wanted. She went in deep, the deepest she could, pulled herself out and went in all the way with all the force she could. It was a pleasant surprise for him as he wasn’t expecting this fast encounter. She continued to do that until she got comfortable and then as she settled nice and deep, she started rocking back and forth with everything she got. He was feeling everything, everything that he couldn’t even begin to describe. He bit hard onto the his tie as he felt every pulse of his resonate with her, every heart beat match with her, every thrust sending him to space and pulling him back. He held her my her waist and he was at his brim, a second away from explosion. He wanted to pull her out, but he knew that there wasn’t much time nor did he wanted to,  and nor did she. He almost let out a shout as he released into her, arching on his back with every wave. But she was nowhere near stopping. She continued to ride  him, continued to resonated with his waves, even after he had emptied everything, every last drop he could, but she planned to continue until she had her fair share of orgasm. He wanted her to stop after that enormous wave and explosion, but there was nothing much in his hands. She was in control, she was in complete control of what was to happen, when he is really finished. A minute or two later, he felt his hardness being grasped harder as a trembling wave swept across him. She had her orgasm and she fell on him, him still inside of her, while she slowly rocked even after that huge tiring pleasurable workout. They didn’t seem to get enough of each other, after all this while, after hours of being inside each other.

They lay on the bed wrapped in the sweet sweat of their hard work, their passion resonating in each sweat drop, their love electrifying with each touch. He kissed her, as they hugged each other in harmony while the soft music filled the former echoes of their intimacy. He looked at her as the soft light delicately kissed her. She was as beautiful as ever, tired, exhausted and too worked up, but beautiful all the same. He could keep looking at her all night, all day. She was the perfect in how their thoughts matched, how their eyes talked to each other, how the bodies moved under each other’s breath and how badly they wanted each other. She was just too perfect. Similar thoughts were going through her mind as well, how good he looked under her shadow and how he liked talking to her, the joy in his eyes shining bright every time he looked at her. She settled herself by placing her head on his chest over her interlocked hands and stared at him, and he stared at her, both admiring each other. Neither of them moved for a moment. It was just a fraction of moment, after which she felt something move under her belly and she knew the second round was about to start any moment now.

________

P.S. This is the beginning of many more such (erotic) posts (I hope). If you feel that this could be better, I completely agree with you. Because all of this is out of my imagination and not from experience. I hope you got what I am trying to say : No experience at this whatsoever, and I don’t mean writing. So, do tell, if there is something crucial that I might be missing, that is essential to spice up or perhaps to tone down. And I tell you, no amount of porn watching helps in writing erotic fiction. Nope. Not one bit. Well, do pour out your thoughts, if you happen to read such lengthy not-so-erotic post.

An encounter.

A millisecond of an encounter, a million thoughts exchanged. 

They met at the coffee shop. Perhaps, it was the fate at play or probably its just a coincidence. There was a mix up in their orders and he got hers, she his. That’s how they met for the first time, second time the very same day, when the came face to face to exchange their order. Him being a coffee enthusiast, or in other words a caffeine addict came to have his daily dose of coffee and took the only remaining seat under the roof. It was probably the rush hour or perhaps the people found this to be an ideal place to talk their business. Or perhaps the people ‘hopelessly’ in love have found this place for their usual business of enclosed public display of affection. The music was blaring in his ears when a shadow appeared in front of his eyes and he knew what they wanted to ask so he said “Sure” just as the shadow began to ask a question and as the shadow took it’s place, he got a glimpse, a split second of the shadow in his absent mind. He pretended to be normal but there is a sudden commotion within him, something surreal, something that he had never felt before. His heartbeat was faster, his mind started racing with million thoughts and he wanted to be as cool and calm as possible. May be it was her eyes, may be it was her in complete adoration.

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She looked across the room filled with voices, soft yet loud, as it felt like it was a very happening place. Perhaps, it is the busy hour, she thought to herself. She scanned the whole place but she couldn’t find a single seat except the one in the far corner. She was finally relieved to find a place all to herself where she could indulge in some lone time after the mess of a day that she had had. She just wanted to drown herself in coffee and a book, and leave the day behind. As she was going to grab that corner place while a multitude of thoughts that overflowed her, they stopped in mid way when she saw a guy listening to the music in his phone, settling himself in the seat. She was about to turn around but thought of giving it a shot if he was alone by any chance, she could still drown herself in the book, because then it wouldn’t matter even if anyone was in front of her or a mile away from her. But as she reached the table and was about to ask the question about the seat, “Sure” came the reply as the person in the chair already anticipated what she had wanted without even looking at her. Perhaps there was something really important on his phone that compelled him to be so fixated on his phone. But as she took her seat, she saw his eyes in a tiny glimpse, a millisecond of an encounter, a million thoughts exchanged.

It was that moment when the world went into a silent blur and the voices started fading away in the background. A moment frozen in time that neither of them wanted to come out of, but a distance voice kept calling their names which involuntarily brought them back to reality. Their orders were ready and since he heard his name first, he went ahead to get his while trying to play as cool and normal as possible. But perhaps, he was too indulged in the surreal world that he stumbled as he walked towards the counter. She followed him as her name was next on the list. He didn’t pay much attention to what he was carrying back, neither did she, but as they sat back in their seats, they realized that their orders might not have been theirs.

For a second they waited a moment for either of them to say a word. If they had waited another second, they would have continued to have each others drinks without informing either one about the mismatch, which didn’t seem like such a bad idea either, thanks to the great aroma that it was radiating, but they spoke almost at the same time. And then they paused for the other to continue, but each of them waited for the other to say something. When neither of them said anything, they both smiled and as they exchanged their trays. His heart melted a little, her smile got to him, he didn’t even realize the loud music that played in his ears through his ear phones, and she was no indifferent, she forgot about the book she wanted to read. All she wanted to read now was him, know about him and may be talk a little more with him. But their silent occasional glances did all the talking, in it’s own language. It was as if they knew each other for a long time by how their eyes interacted. They sat across each other and though they were silent for a long time, yet continued talking with their eyes. But eventually, they talked after introducing themselves to each other. It was a weird feeling for both of them. They were complete strangers to begin with and yet somehow they were completely comfortable talking to each other. Before they realized, time flew by, the moon was at its peak and the coffee shop was about to be closed. That was when they were forced to retire for the day but neither of them wanted to. She didn’t once worry about the dreaded day that had passed and he had the best night of his life in such a long time. There was something unique about each other that attracted one another on a level that they failed to comprehend. And yet they were a little shy talking, considering they were complete strangers and they were scared to ruin a good thing by saying something that the other wouldn’t like. That level of understand is yet to be reached between them. By the time they had exited the coffee shop, he knew that both of them had to go separate ways since they stayed on opposite side of the city, so he asked if she wanted to walk for a bit and since it was pretty late, he promised to drop her home.

He had his fingers crossed behind him hoping that she would answer in his favor and to his surprise, she did. They had walked around for a bit longer than they had hoped to and they were in the backseat of the cab where he was doing as he had promised to drop her home even though she insisted that she could go on her own, which was a lie. Yes, she could go but she would have preferred not to, especially if it was him accompanying her. They reached her home and made their way to her house. He had informed the cab driver to wait and keep the meter on as he didn’t know what would happen in the next few minutes- whether he would stay over or have to return back to his home to one sleepless night(s). And as they reached the door, a million thoughts flooded his mind and so did hers. He didn’t know what to say and what to do. She was flustered already that he was at her doorstep and she wanted him in her house, sit by the fire and talk the night away, but didn’t know how to ask him. Meanwhile, before he was about to bid farewell, he opened his arms saying that he had the best night in a very long time and that she was a very special person. As they hugged, their bodies talked to each other in that warm embrace, a spark went inside each other’s heart and before she could process what was happening inside her, she kissed on his cheek and invited him inside. He ran back to the cab and paid the fare and came back into her house.

They crashed in the couch as she offered him a glass of wine. A soft music played in the background. All this was done by her while he ran back to the cab to pay the fare. And when the music in the background hit the right note, they looked at each other, into their eyes and it happened again, a spark in their eyes that called out to each other. They came a little close to each other, diving deep into each other’s eyes and they came close enough to breathe each other in.

_________

To be continued …
(Or should it be stopped here?
If you’re reading this, drop in your opinions what could happen, in your opinion. )

 

Flawed.

How important is love? How important is loving a person? And how much more important is loving a person who loves you unconditionally, without any expectations. Wait, a few expectations, scratch that a little too much expectations, but still loves unconditionally.

How flawed I must be to not resonate the same love? How lost I must be to not acknowledge the depth of the concern showered all over me ? How broken I must be to not understand the gravity of the emotion shared?

They said, it’s pure. They said, it’s ethereal. They said, it’s unconditionally out of the world. And yet I failed to even scratch even the surface. As far as I could remember, I have tried to maintain my distance. The text messages that kept coming like a daily ritual, only to be answered with a big sigh once a day, that too after a consistent array of messages overflowing the inbox of concern. I failed to understand. Or that time when the phone rang and I sighed a little and let the ring die out, a couple too many times. And then when left with no other choice, tried to keep the conversation to a bare minimum by using just one word answers. Or those white lies, I kept telling to put the phone down to text someone I didn’t even know or be done with the call. I failed to understand. And when I was called to be at home for holidays, how I kept evading, every time. “Why aren’t you going home for holidays“, when asked by people around me, I cooked up an ever  so brilliant story such as how my parents weren’t at home or were busy with something or whatever hit my mind at that time.

Under the cacophony of multitudes, I never even tried to understand, to be fair. With each thought that passes by, it makes me realize that there is something hauntingly broken inside of me that fails to process the emotions, the purest that there is, the feelings which should have come naturally, and yet they are nowhere to be felt. And all along, all my attempts to be a part of the crowd, to not be so messed up, in the inside, I smiled at the pleasant stories they told, got angry at the insensitivity, because anything otherwise is an abomination of human existence. And in an attempt to be normal, I wished her “Happy Mother’s Day” over a text.

_____

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A Desert.

Endless mountains wrapped in lush greenery
Under the dome of countless stars
A million dreams drifted in the river
Through the charades of euphoria

Amidst the chaos of life
Flowed a stream
Brimming with hope and dreams
As dry as a desert.

Stories they told once, about
The pain of yesteryear
The fear of tomorrow
With each suppressed emotion

Graced the cheek, every night
Under the dark of the lonely stars
Over soft pillows and muffled cries
In the silence of the closed walls

Behind the noise of the cold showers
Midst of the mumbling crowd
Muffled in the soft rains
Transpired to hiding behind smiles

The cheek that lay barren
In wait of the fateful story
Of those endless sleepless nights
For that tear among the silently loud cries.

– Ξnigma, inspired by MirageOfAGirl‘s River of Tears

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Wake me up.

The sun kissed the soft corners of the room, as the birds chirped in their melody, lamenting the spirits of the sleepy mind to a fresh start. It was a beautiful morning, a little bright, but just the right kind of bright; a little warm, just enough to make the skin feel alive; a little soft, for the eyes to let them enjoy the beauty in it’s full glory. It was like any other morning, but this was a little special one.

I’m a victim of my mistakes. Or may be it’s just me.

If you want something from heart, the whole universe conspires in helping you achieve it“, they said. How beautiful is this message? How blindly he felt it was real, true? How blindly he wished and wished and wished for something to happen? Oh wait, he heard whispers going around. “Wishing doesn’t help. You have to make an effort. You have to try”. He did try. A couple too many times. Because again, there they were saying some stupid inspiration stuff again,”Try and try and you will succeed.“. They make all of these seem so easy, make it like a walk in the park. And well what do you know, he did try. He really did. But may be, may be it wasn’t enough. May be his will power was weak. Or may be perhaps, he was a little too scared. Or perhaps, deep down may be he didn’t wish it wholly from heart. But they never stopped, never stopped saying mind boggling stupid inspirational shit, again. So, resorting to what they do best, they said, “God helps one who helps themselves“. That makes sense, doesn’t it? God created us. And in a matter of speaking he is partly responsible for us. Hence, after exhausting all other viable options, he turned to God. Oh the almighty creator. Whom else could I turn to?  God fulfills your wishes, another idiot blurted out quoting some lines from a story book. And the irony is that people believed him and the story book. They called him the prophet and the book the holy book. If great many people believed, then it had to be true. How can so many people be wrong? How can so many people be blind? He didn’t realize to ask one question : How can so many people have their trust in someone whom they haven’t even met, while they demand proof for every other thing starting from their own identity. They would call you an impostor if you didn’t have an ID on you.

But in all retrospect, he believed in that story book, may be it was because of the years of people constantly telling over and over again about the stories and quoting the lines from the book in their prayers.. That’s why he knelt down and prayed. He even cried and prayed a little more. He promised to sacrifice something that was very close to him, like the politicians have always promised us. Yes, he broke the promise, a million times over. And at every hurdle he faced, he put up the same promises for the things he wanted.

Wake me up, or may be don’t.

Perhaps, he was asking too many things. May be God keeps a track of the wishes to be fulfilled per person and after the expiration of the limit, there’s nothing he could do, even if you sacrificed a human or the blood of the virgin, which would again have to be him. God doesn’t two shits about that. Anyhow, he calmed himself down and prayed for just one thing. He prayed for one thing over and over and over. He was getting furious at God for ignoring his concerns. This was a serious issue. Why isn’t God paying any attention? Why isn’t God helping him in any way? The questions that haunted him all day and night.

So, he tried again the other night, like the last couple nights. He kept trying. And every time he fell short. He tried great many different things. But, he fell gravely short. Because every time he tried, he woke the other day. He saw another sunrise where the sun kisses the soft corners of the room, where the birds chirp in their melody, lamenting the spirits of the sleepy mind to a fresh start, where it seems to be a beautiful morning, a little bright, just the right kind of bright; a little warm, just enough to make the skin feel alive; a little soft that lets to enjoy the beauty in it’s full glory. It was like any other morning, another beautiful morning, that didn’t look beautiful. Because, he was still alive.

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Help me help.

There is this sinking feeling, that drowns us into suffocation where we strive to breathe, that engulfs me into this embrace, a lot like darkness. Yes, darkness, my old friend. No matter what we do, how much we try to fight, we feel tied down, held down. But, but there is light, there always is. We see it at the end of the tunnel, a vibrant collision of bright and shining. We want to reach for it. We want to get out of this darkness, this suffocation, this struggle for life, this fear. And we see this light, so close yet so far, slowly diminishing, slowly fading. But we are drowning, sinking in this quicksand that pulls us down into this bottomless pit, struggling with all our might, yet feeling completely helpless, useless.

I am angry because I am helpless.
– Ξniɢma

I just read the other day another rape incident, not a day after that mass molestation. This is shocking. This is beyond normal. This is going out of control. And I am agitated. My mind is not in one piece. I was at work and I was trying to focus on my work as I wanted some things taken care of. I got distracted with the news that I came across as I scrolled the Facebook timeline. I tried to avoid it, like I have avoided all my problems, like every important thing that mattered I have avoided, I wanted to be that dumb guy who doesn’t understand what is going on when the whole group are laughing and discussing about something. I tried to be that asshole who would just scroll down without flinching an eye and passing a comment “Nothing new“. I tried my best to be ignorant like I had been ignoring the calls from my relatives. But I was drawn to it. Why? I had to know. Why was this pulling me towards it? I didn’t even go out to catch Pokémons while the whole world rejoiced on each Pokemon they collected. I was not drawn to the girl on whom I had crush on for as long as I can remember when she sent a text. What the hell was it, then? I did what I usually don’t know but do all the time – Psychoanalysis!

Was it the pain? Was it the suffering? Was it the inhumanity? What was it?  I am human after all. I too have a few weakness. I t was then I realized that I was drawn to the helplessness. I was drawn to them all – the pain, the suffering.

As I sit somewhat-comfortably in my almost-perfectly cushioned bed after have adjusted the pillows to my favor to rest my back and try to express what I am feeling, I may be telling I am angry, agitated, pissed, blood boiling and everything hyper, but in the end what am I doing? What am I contributing to the cause? How can this little-angry write up about my anger change something, someone?

It agitated me quite a bit to even think about it. We can debate all we want about the problems we have , the things we can do , the things we should do, go on candle light marches in remembrance, stage a protest outside some government institute, break a few windows, burn a few buses, or may be not and all this while we think we are doing a good thing, trying our part in bringing about the change that we so badly need. Or even better we write about the underlying problem, the cause, the reason and while we are laying out the consequences and what we should do, what others should do, what the government we  elected must do. We would go on and write about the problems of the country, the deranged people shouting in CAPITAL LETTERS for the emphasis and also because we are agitated and angry and pissed and outraged. We hope that the letters we write, the articles we publish and the stories we scribble with the carefully structured sentences and curbing the Fuck curse words will reach the people and somehow it will bring a change, somehow it will give them a question to ponder over their actions, somehow that story just might change the people.

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But we are human. No, let me rephrase. We are assholes. We follow blind leaders and illiterate psychopaths. Have you ever wondered that IAS exams that we write are so tough to crack and you know what happens to the people who pass them? They work for some 5th standard fail politician. Even with all the aspirations to bring about the change on a small scale is just sidetracked. How are the politicians so illiterate. You want growth. Elect people who can take the challenge. Not someone who are looking to control and oppress. Oh, yes the speeches are always great because they have been drafted with a degree, a MBA one perhaps.

The underlying issue stays the same. We hope that people would change, the concerned officials will take control and bring drastic reforms in. But let’s get one thing clear, there are still a few assholes out there who can’t be changed no matter what you do. Don’t blame it on illiteracy. Everyone learns, in some way or the other. Just that one are hard core assholes who refuse to learn, who refuse to change their way. I don’t understand their stubbornness. They could use this stubbornness to do something good. And the problem still continues.

I am not doing a great thing here by voicing out my thoughts. And that’s what bothers me the most. I am not doing anything. I want to do something to change all this and not give people a chance to even talk about these incidents. But, I am helpless, utterly helpless.

Can you help me to help?
Please?
 

__

Ξniɢma

The picture quotes are borrowed from Quotefancy