~ I Can Never Be The Same Again --

My eyes are slightly swollen and at this time of night; unattended; stoned -- for how long I kept gazing at these stairs, glaring stars right from my terrace, these walls that have my little hands imprinted somewhere here and there, my little sweet wishes in specific aroma traversing from one room to other , my memories; memories of my family all jumbled up and tonight it seems I am burying them; trying to absorb as much as is possible or burry them in sequence in chambers of my heart and vaporize my emotions fueling up my heart right now that are forcefully trying to bring tears in my eyes.  

Sometimes I hate this sensitivity it’s over bearing. Sometimes emotions are childish; they play abnormal games but difference is that you can’t defend them in age where you are sane, responsible and so called powerful. Sometimes you have to be your own light; your own mentor; your own help or consolidator. Sometimes you have to carry your own weight no matter how many loved ones you have around; pat your back yourself and hold your palms and rub them together to give warmth to the ridden area. Sometimes sky is just collapsing and earth takes jitters but you hold your heart and wait for the storm to pass on with your back bent and eyes in swoons.

This is the place I grew up most in both sweet and somber accumulation. Unknowingly I sat near a flower for which I had been told in my child hood is the most aerie plant; the smell of it holds a magic. It certainly vets for something missing; it is the queen of night. And I kept wondering why unfair is the nature waking up king of the day in the day. How much she must be missing him.
And the congregation of stars and making random images in mind and guess game that kept going for many hours. Finally comparing skies we have seen in different areas, making assumptions about pollution, good and bad , zeal and zest.

The castles that I made in sand dunes with my feet completely drenched in cold sand marking my most imaginary plays and those bricks with which I used to adorn my dream house. It is then I learnt the difference between a house and a home. It took ages to have a comfortable sleep alone.

This house has a lot of fears and hopes kneeled down today and something just whispers near my ear. It’s time to go. Have a last look and go. World awaits for more challenges while I want to catch this time in my fist and never let go of it; to go back in time and  keep hold of my mother's dupatta  and walk right behind her and just follow where she steps in; to have this security that she won’t de track ever , i would never be missed or rubbed or nothing would be removed in time.

For once in my life I want to be like a kid; dropping my head on her shoulder, throw my arms around her neck and close my eyes to have some heavenly sleep. And she by chance of looking at me try to see if I am ok and also by her mysterious looks that they call 'love' make a way to look through the eyes deep into my heart.

Dear My  Space: thankyou for allowing me to vent it all out. I feel much better and now am ready for sleep. It is nothing just a change of place and one of my brother leaving  for good.You can read me so well that i am attracted towards you. Thankyou for keeping my emotions and not to question 'what why where who' . Thankyou!!!

Home Is Where Your Heart Is

Dear valley,

Something in the air tells me that coming days are going to bring a change; for I have build my emotions and world with much care and love and the clouds hovering over the head encompassing this strange feeling of me not belonging to somewhere; I knitted with my own hand.

My beautiful world had a perfect picture and glimpse of smiles and laughter, somber and deprivation.
This town and my league seem to be garbled now.

It took a while to think we belong to our own region and head towards our own destination and therefore I have decided to flee where circumstances and my luck take me to be.

Behind me seems a vacant space, ahead is the gruesome valley and where as I ready to take another jump. I still remember my first flight when my family helped me to bring on the verge and I thought it to be my culmination point but when first time I moved my feather to see if world around me existed; I got to know this is just the beginning of where I ended my last ride.

I had to fly to earn my name, to earn my bread and butter and this troposphere seems to lack required oxygen now and therefore for the perfect living I have to move the other way.

Dear valley, my love and affection cannot be and would never be affected with this motley. I have this sense to save all I have experienced and I can still have an aroma of knowing where my home is.

I will come back to cherish the space; this life brought to me but with an assurance to have my eyes opened here; once I feel suffocated again.

With much love,

An engrossed inhabitant.

A home that belongs to me

Look at this seat- brooded and treated by dust, grains of sand filling the incomplete parts of me. Hear the cackle- disintegrating where the walls stood by, contemplating the security under the auspices of the love, I besot.

Whenever winter comes, a wave caresses the skin, piercing the base and snatching the moisture I ever believed to have. Everything looks dry and when I ply energies to touch what I have lost; I am kaput.

Look at the huge sky with patches of cloud but where I stand goes the blink of an eye that sees only brown and then quality to recognize and to decipher loses the war I fought.

That all happened, that was meant to happen. Flowers we seeded had to knock down. Love that we nurtured had to belt down. No matter how much you live in, how much energy you invest, it happens leaving you dumbstruck. If time corresponded, I will sit by the town waiting for that quail to sing again, waiting for the season to chirk up again; I will slowly move towards it; to understand the hidden message it gives for the next winter.

For when winter comes again I will never let it barren, the inside world I have, and emotions that dominate my world. I will fight till my hand can bear the strand and after that I would let world go still, take away my senses, keep me stranded. To wait for next spring to come, next hope to bloom, and next home to make my own. For the place I belong to, is build with love and love comes after every stint and it comes better and stronger.