Some days I have a smile on my face. Yet inside I am breaking apart. Sometimes that trophy is all I want. Yet when I get it, it was not the rosy picture I’d painted. Some days the world doesn’t make sense at all. And other days I think I’ve found the missing puzzle pieces. Somehow, somewhere he meant a lot to me. And yet he never did. Most days I believe there’s a God. Then religion strikes back at my faith. On days I help a poor fellow, the papers print how another looted millions. Some days I want much more than all the colours of the rainbow. Then there are days when even black and white are too much to handle. There are moments when I am the centre of my universe. Then there are times when I wish I could replace an atom. Some days solitude is all I want. Other days I crave to be around people. Some days I wish my dreams came real. Other days I want my reality to become a dream.
And in all of this confusion and clarity, dejection and joy, devastation and creation there’s life. And that itself is reason enough to celebrate. I may not yet know what my purpose of life is, but that’s okay. As long as I keep walking, the road will become clearer and things will begin to make sense. I will as long as I can. Until I can’t. Life’s uncertain. Death isn’t.
Life’s simple. It’s complicated too.
P.S. : We’re all each but one piece of domino. Insignificant we may seem, but just one missing piece can ruin the domino fall.
He had no inkling of what he’d done. He’d prised her apart, promising to always guard her, and had at the end, left her open, wounds fresh and bleeding.
She couldn’t see how heavy a burden she was for him, how hard he’d been dragging her before he succumbed to his own magnanimous promises.
She was his best mistake, he, her worst.
Picture Courtesy : Pinterest.
While the Sun marked the end of its journey for the day, colours vermillion, saffron, magenta and plum painted the skies turn by turn until the deep blues and blacks took over. Such untarnished beauty did not for once in my life pleasure me. I had lived multiple lives till I met you. I was what the police called a conman. Doctors preferred compulsive liar. The other conmen revered me as an enemy. There were no friends in my business.
Like it happens every once in a while, I met my match in you. You were my glimmer of hope. I could see myself changing, living happier and for once in my sorry life I was dying to be a one-woman man. You made me want to give up everything just to be with you. And the one person I was ready to give up everything for had to be pushed away. My lies had caught up with me finally. I was getting sucked in a web so deep that shivers would run up even a spider’s spine. And the cost I would have to pay would be my life, if nothing more.
I lied to you for the very first time today and also my life’s last. I could imagine the swirling winds of anger inside you. There was a lot you wanted to say. Your eyes gave you away. They smouldered but you said nothing. I broke your heart to pieces but you didn’t say a word. I know not whether it was your love that held you back from lashing out hatred at me or if I was not even worth hating anymore. And I guess I will never know.
As those bullets pierced through my body, your face flashed before my eyes and each lingering kiss felt closer and dearer than ever before.
I died loving you so you could live hating me.
Lights dimmed. Curtains unfurled. Shaking knees.
What are your first stage memories? A slip, miss your call, or in awe of the hall? Swag, strut or a falling gut?
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Smiling in her sleep,
She dreamt her beau cupping her face,
Caressing her hair and her cheek,
His finger lingering at her lips.
She felt a hand up her neck,
She brushed away the tickling fingers,
Only to wake up, horrified.
She was sleeping alone.
P.S. I hope you love the new look as much as I do! Feedback awaited.
As her hand moved across the sheet,
She created the man she always wanted,
Putting her dreams on paper for all,
She wanted the world to worship him.
She gave him deep dark eyes,
A mane of hair enviable even by women,
A nose as straight as a string,
A smile to floor with just one look.
In his hand, she gave him a knife,
The dripping blood adding menace to him,
“It’s time to get back to your cell,”
The nurse said taking her art away.