It was a cold Christmas eve, I walk back home late after shopping as my car broke down .I could have hired a cab but I preferred to walk alone in order to have some time with myself.The December has always been my favorite month.My Stefan’s birthday falls on this month ,Christmas.My kids Tony and Tiffany is born on this month almost every incident or memory that instills happiness happened during this month .I darted through the snow ,the whole place looks cheerful happily (more…)
This is what I have been asking myself all along.It remains a useless work ,obviously time consuming .Being an engineer ,writing is no way related to my stream.
Do I write for likes ?
No,yes…to be frank if you like my post it means its kind of readable and indeed not gibberish.
I write though mom and dad are completely against writing.I sneak stealthily as if committing a horrendous crime just to write.
Why do I like writing so much?
May be because I am crazy on writing,or perhaps it might be due to immense love for reading.
Or it helps me cry out my feelings,I needn’t curtail it in my heart.
It is an ecstasy to immerse yourself in joy of writing when your imagination transforms into words flowing down faster than you would expect.
poetry is a charm ,where tears and frustration poured out in form of poetry, relieves my heart from burden I have been carrying all along.
not just tears ….joy,depression,hatred,love ,agony,confusion ,excitement,fantasies,musings all these feelings are converted into words.
it helps me to think rethink in being me.
The greatest reason why I write
I feel happy when I write,that is why I do it.
I just cant imagine a life like that..
I am not sure if I write well or not but still I write,because I don’t think I can even breath if I stop writing….
without writing I will perish.
then why do I blog?
Is that a question????I am addicted
answer is simple it is because I love you all,you always pay heed to my writing how ever drowsy and boring it is.I am literary in love with your comments.
Again wasting time when academics are taunting me?There is a huge pile of homework to be done.Not sure how I am gonna complete it.
Still I write,still I blog,
though I know it is wrong.
why do you write?
Her eyes paused at the last page of the fairy tale which read “and they lived happily ever after”.
Her eyes sparkled with a gleam of a teenager, caressing the old children’s book which was buried under shambles of magazine ,she dusted the book but still the sides were stained by a colour which lays somewhere between the shades of brown and yellow.
The attic was old dusty comprising of a small spasm through which light penetrated ,towards the left most corner there was a pile of broken wares but attic showed no sign of a kid or a girl rather than this children’s book,an old forgotten deprived fairy tale.
She winked at the book like an old friend ,smiling to herself sat down on the dusty attic skimming through the pages,which she loved and indeed still love.Her smile didnt reach her cheeks she briskly got up ,as if she did something wrong .she gave a one last longing look at the fairy tale before dropping it and walking away.
she held the broom to herself resuming the cleaning slowly but tears dripped on the floor,she wiped her tears with the dusty hands staining her flawless skin.
She threw the broomstick away descended down the attic using a small ladder,down there was a something you would never dream would see,an exquisite alluring baronial building .The grand entryway with a sweeping staircase draws you into a voluminous layout . The great room with French doors to the rear deck is the dramatic view of the large lawn visible through colossal wide windows, accompanied by an elegant dining room more ornate than your imagination would ever extend, tremendous chef kitchen with all modern equipment’s, family room with a marble fireplace and glass doors to the backyard. The divine master suite presents tray ceilings, massive windows, a terrace overlooking the water and so on…
she advanced soulless through the corridor of this large empty house.She moved into the room which was more stately than any other room in that house,it must be a bedroom as a large bed lay crouching at the farthest corner.She traipsed towards the mirror ,in the mirror she found the girl of twenty five staring back at her,but her eyes look lifeless,the stain of tears and dust still remained but her beauty was something that cant be diminished by any dust or scar.
Pain that lingered in her heart was visible in her eyes ,tears spluttered out as she removed her shirt and threw it off,but on either sides of her shoulder was something that looked like feathers being cut short…tears steadily transformed into sobs as she caressed her cut down wings ,she moved to the window witnessing the raging sea but the tears never ceased ,she was dying inside …she stood there drunk in pain with a heart raging more than the ceaseless waves of the sea above which she would have flew happily if fate wasnt against her….
to be continued…..