.a written note.

Its like a glass half filled with satisfaction. Despite the feeling of loss I'm reminded by the smallest, sometimes nonexistent of things, of the path I no longer walk. The pebbles along the way must have stuck where I'd last seen 'em for they're still there, blurry, but visible despite my standing on the edge here, very much away. Time flies, they say. It should've had taken us, the slaves of it along as it flew. But we are, somehow, still where we'd been. Still there enough to pretend the time is our companion and that we'd never do it injustice. Of cheating it and ourselves. This is now a new path I walk. Getting used to it will soon make it old. I'll again step out of the way. And I'll continue looking back at the pebbles I believe I own at this moment. I look in the mirror more often lately. And I like what I see. I'm growing up. The clothes I wear have a different scent than before. In fact, they do  have a scent over them. I open the ...

Things to be sorted out were all I'd kept in the pending zone of my mind, a number of days before and after I turned nineteen. I called my meet with N a break I probably needed but its too soon to call it a break and to give myself one in the first place. My meet with N, the time we spent together in a complete different place, perhaps, was nameless. Without any label. And maybe, I truly hope, maybe, the very anonymity of it was what I needed to occupy the meantime. The meantime when there were huge possibilities of me doing the unnecessary and getting myself stuck in yet another mess. There lay gladness in me initially. Gladness of knowing I'm still capable enough to be flexible and let things happen as they do, take life as it comes. To accept the unacceptable and rearrange the could-have-been-broken parts. To deny the guilt and hatred and define change in a new way. It was a little hard to know the gladness lay somewhere inside due to the presence of confusion, ...

Freedom is what I seek, looking out of my untitled dream. Fantasy comes along since I live and exist at the same time. I pray to you, the Lord of the Lords, although I know not the prayers, I need not the words..to converse with you and demand. My silence gets heard, so I believe. Just a soul I am perhaps, in the world that is now familiar. Filled with anonymity and worth. I pray to you, the Lord of the Lords, to help me solve the mysteries. I'm a river that doesn't follow, but flows in a direction nonetheless. I am yet to meet my ocean of desires. I am yet to know the truths that are meant for me to know. I pray to you, the Lord of my soul, to make for me my pathways visible. To let me know one good reason why I exist. To free the ways that belong to me. To free me from the ways I've left behind.

Some unknown hurry. Some desperation I knew but didn't have to come across. Until now. Until this specific moment. Its midnight. I guess so. I'm horrified. Scared. Feeling almost empty. And emptier, the more I think of what made me feel like it. The roots of it. The dream I just dreamt. The dream I happened to dream. Unwillingly, for sure. I'd prefer anything over the kind of a dream I just dreamt, my instincts. No, nothing's going to happen to her, the voice almost yells from the inside. Needless to say the dream was worse than reality. So worse that the reality itself would rather seem and feel beautiful. My mother used to say, considering the continuity of the dreams I dreamt back then, that people usually dreamt about things they constantly thought of or wished to happen. I remember the days when I used to stumble across the same as I did now. Bad, painful dreams, making me feel like I was never going to get away from them. Most of the dreams, back then, were the...

I'm passing The Overlord Award to Rahul  http://randomrahul.blogspot.in/  Only a sentence: A great platform if fictions interest you! *** I am back to my hometown, three weeks before the birthday. I'd left this place for the sake of giving myself a break and I figured it was a well made decision. On the contrary, I did behave weirdly the day I left her place, for some unknown reasons. Sometimes I wonder whether we became best of friends by an accident but what mattered was the bond we shared. As true as it is, it confuses me many a times. Not that anything's wrong. Here, since I'm back, I notice there are things I'm yet to figure out. If taken a look, I knew I was gonna find tremendous things yet to be sorted out but I did like the idea of keeping all those things in a pending zone of my mind, taking a break for a specific time, pretending for myself to throw up all my cares in the air and knowing I'm gonna have to head back to the zone that awaited me. Hu...

I leave the room anyway. Unbelievable, how it feels better to leave it and choose the terrace instead. It'd comfort me more, for obvious reasons. But perhaps, only perhaps, I need to get out of my comfort zone. I want to. To let the weather outside shiver me badly. Mother can now hear me shivering. She rubs her hands over mine. So soft and warm they feel leaving a motherly touch not only over my hands but all over me. Behind that constant rubbing feels her urge to calm me down sitting on that cot in the middle of night over our terrace.  "What's wrong, will you tell me?", I can feel how much she needs to know the roots of such behaviour. Like my lying in bed, eyes closed but body movements frequently showing the restlessness off for what seemed like hours and then waking up all of a sudden in the dark, going up to the terrace. Something that made her come along when I left. "Nothing, I feel terrible!", I say, shivering. For some strange rea...

Hearing what mother says, getting to know something more and bad, despite the loud voices I can feel in my head right since the moment father himself spoke to me, I'm stunned. Stunned at the constant unbearable load that gets pulled over to me by myself, sometimes knowingly, unknowingly. What I hear from mother is quite expected but I don't really get how it pains more when actually heard. Its not about what happened earlier, I remember. Its about the phase I've been happening to go through, what don't seem to matter are the efforts I put in. No matter how much I try making it work and making it better, sometimes the resulting things seem to be positive and building up my confidence but somehow nothing from the beginning works and at the end, it gets worse! Having tried many times, having seen many such ends as well, the stunnedness always feels the same, no matter what the reason is. Turning point, I think. Too many voices in the head to make ways for. Too many q...