As I think of your name only, your voice starts running in my mind, your laugh and pathetic jokes. (That's what PJ is right?)
Back in first year with all the singing and chajaying, I found you tad irritating to. ( I seriously wonder now why) but I wasn't well and you came and pressed my head because I was crying. ( I was wondering who does that?)
After that, we met one day post articlsehip in Andheri where we walked to Versova and you told me your stories.
The Goa was epic all right, because of how I stole a few moments for myself in between all that baby sitting. Sitting by the pool and listening to your stories with Abbas at 5 in the morning, the Vagator beach pictures( am...
I WILL TRAVEL YOU!
I will travel you
To each and every corner
I will walk up to your darkest doors,
I will cherish your innocent heart
I will stop on your lips for a while
Because beautifully irresistible they are.
I will climb if there are ups
I will slide gently over the downs
I will stay in your mind for a day or two
Maybe I will take a round.
I will mark my impressions
Wherever I've been
I will mark them everywhere,
I will give you everything that I have
Everything in my share.
I will walk
I will talk a lot
Holding in my hands the shoes pairs
I will learn from you
To love, to live
I will learn from you to care.
You are my road to the infinity
You are my way to the Paradise....
Insomnia shook hands with me. The bruised, pale, old hands. The hands of agony. It lead the way to the balcony as it held my hand and a cup of black coffee rested in the other.
Under the moonlit sky, it just left me, until I realised I had a shadow in the dark as well! That shadow was insomnia. Staring right back at me, piercing through the skin that covered me, into a hollow body and talking to my soul. The sound reverberated and shook the delicate tissues of my heart to make me anxious. I was just a mannequin, a muppet.
My hazel eyes were blithering now as the stars and the might moon tried finding a way through the dilated pupils to lighten up my soul. Unfortunately, they failed. But I h...
Love and memories are like stories. Short stories. Every word, a part of an aesthetic poem that pierces through the thin layer of wounded skin, covering the nutshell you've built around your very own self.
Stories that are monotonous, that reside inside you, every word of the poem you know by heart, as if it's a tattoo inscribed by the ink of love in the delicate tissues of your heart but still love it so much that keep you reading it over and over again. A perpetual cycle that has edges which bleed but you still can't break.
Stuck in the labyrinth of complexities, we usually tend to miss the roots or rather forget them altogether. Just like heartbreak makes you forget what love feels like. ...
Me: I missed watching cable tv in India with all those ads. *feeling nostalgic
Tv: well hold on. *hits me with 15min of ads in 30 min of showtime😂
#instantregrets 🤣 #beingIndian #Indiatripdiaries
# Jen writing prompt
Where wouldn't I want to go ! Hello reader . It is me Sweedle and today I'm the bus driver .
No not the school driver ! I'm driving the bus today for a special ride to my dream destination.
Well not just mine but other's too. There are quite few interesting ladies with me who are on board too.
There's Mowluda with her spectacled mischievous eyes and a wide smile in the front .
Then there would be our crackhead ,Brinda in one of her traditional kurta , the ones that have intricate embroidery around the borders , sitting behind her.
The girl who is known for her beautiful smile aka my hope bank , Muskan sits near the window on the other side, the windy a...
Your memory looks so like you.
Your memory is a world in itself, a world of unrequited love. A world of incomplete stories. Of shattered hearts and dreams.
A world that requires no breaths, no skies but just a visit to elate you.
Where the birds happily flap their wings to kiss the moon, even when it hides behind an eclipse, distancing itself from love.
Your words feel so like you. The soft touches of those words on my heart.
I long to lose myself in this world where the drought hit skins are flooded with my tears. A world where I still send you messages, just by a wandering pigeon this time. Every word that's saved from being burnt by the scorching heat of the sun but still kissing the clo...
I love to travel
I love to see
My dream destination is none
As i am always of thirst
And that thirst can never be filled
Its like whever i go i want to live in their memories
Even if its just one meeting
My destion is to travel heart to heart
I inherited my dad's love for road trips.
I have not inherited his knack for fixing up cars.
Now that I have a car after 6 years without one, I feel like the world is unlocked. I can travel. I can tour. I can haul my gear to unconventional venues. The world is my oyster.
As long as there's a dad nearby when the engine light goes on.
And then many beginnings took shape
with many I believed, would bring to me
an elusive eternity, an immaculate hope:
As mere words, as deepest feelings,
As truest friends, as unconditional love.
Yet all of it brings to awareness,
a destiny of truth, a path of happiness
and a journey of solace, away from
life's labyrinths, medley of memories,
Pursuit of purposes, towards the
Freedom of the finest thoughts...
A journey of Solitude.
He walked through the silent, empty corridors, scared to even see his own shadows, for he had led a life of emptiness with loneliness greeting him and hugging him tight every moment. He wasn't just lonely, he was alone too!
The sun was setting and he felt relieved, the blood finally rushing into his veins. His heart, created chaos in a soul trapped in his skin. The sound of the heartbeats that were unfelt was still audible in his ears that hadn't heard a word, a melody, since seasons. Since ages. For he could never garner enough words to do justice with all the thoughts that drenched his empty mind and isolated heart.
A life of isolation was what he was acquainted to, abandoned by the brok...
I am a seeker.
The path stretches before me, beckoning. "Don't stop," it whispers.
"I never will."
I wrung out my heart,
To push you out of it.
The blood of love
Tasted like your chapped lips.
The soft touch,
The redness in the color.
Your fragrance surrounded me,
The blood smelled of you.
As it flew, and carved it's path
To find a way, and achieve solace in you.
I kneaded out my heart
As it screamed in torment,
The faint voices
Searched for words.
To reside in hearts,
That would be broken before scrunched.
A heart mangled again,
A million pieces lay crumpled.
The sight of which,
Unseen, unfelt, unheard.
In the silent sobs,
The translucent tears,
Disappearing as they ran
Through red cheeks,
And wrinkled skins.
Red, they say, is the color of love,
Red, I saw, was the color of pain, an...
I look up at the empty, dark sky filled with nothingness in an attempt to stargaze as my sight fell at a tiny star and for a moment the curvature of the huge yet tiny planet that I inhibited, ceased to exist. The radiance of the star that stared at me and looked right through me was surreal. For a moment, the distance didn't matter, for a moment, everything around just vanished. And for an eternal moment it was just the two of us. The star and me. Under a moonlit sky. Sharing our silene, communicating in silence.
Science says when two people stare at each other right in the eye, their heartbeats get synchronised. And well that's exactly what happened when my heratbeats matched their foots...
We were two people.
Walking on the same path.
But heading towards two different destinations.
Ways couldn't be parted and I reached my destination.
Little did I know, you were my eternal point.
Not ready to provide me with a safe haven.
Dreaming with eyes wide open
Clear skies, cloudy mind
Open skies, closed thoughts.
Being with you is the rush I feel
when my plane takes off.
Falling for you is when my heart
drops just before my plane lands.
I wake up to the sunrise that is your eyes
And fall asleep as the warmth of sunset is in your arms.