Story of a writer who writes stories…

The moment of pride, joy and sorrow for a writer when the story comes to its last line, last word…even if it’s just a file in a folder for many, it’s child to its creater who gave birth to the names, people and protagonists living inside those pages.

After going through ups and downs with those people every day, when rest of the world went to sleep, the writer is now left alone and sad…like the parent whose child has moved out for a job or a best friend who is now in another city…what now?

The joy and the sigh of strange pain…story of a writer who writes stories.

..

image

A withered rose…!!!!

Like a withered rose

She stood still

Unknown

Unaware

Of the change

The blowing wind

It felt strange

To bloom

To smile

Doom

Was that the color

Of her

She wasn’t sure

Or

Cared

She was a withered rose

Stood and pose

Same way

Everyday

Living in the past

So aghast

Of what’s not coming back

Of the deep crack

Between then and now

Raising a brow

She gave signs of life

For she never moved

A withered rose

She stood & pose

Same way

Everyday

There, there

Said the sun& moon

She heard none

She wanted to

Listen, dance & move

To spring & monsoon

But she was no more

The flower she was to be

Ravaged to the end

She stood little bend

She bore no signs

Of the beauty

She was once

Of the richness

The fragrance

The abundance

Of life

A waste to be thrown

What became

Of her

For

She was a withered rose

She might have been presumed

Dead

If it wasn’t the dread

Painted over

Darker

Than her own color

No water

No light

She starved

Pain carved

Every where

She rusted

She broke

To the ugliness

Of a stick in water-less

Pot

She wrought

She fought

Then she became a ghost

A dead flower

Almost

A little pale & pink

Oozing with the stink

Such was fate

Of the girl who

Turned into

A withered rose

Who stood & pose

Same way

Everyday..!!!!

Step one, step two, step three…step thousand & eighty three…!!!!

She has been walking

For hours

For years

All alone

For miles

Yet its the same

The road

The sky

The load

Of her emptiness

Is her only

Companion

Her Oblivion

Is her only friend

So much walking

She finds herself

At same place

With no grace

She is a face

With questions

She throws

At the birds

The crows

The wall

The sky

And then few more steps

Few more turns

She stifles a cry

Drags herself

From left to right

All alone

With heart so

Heavy like a stone

She is bitter

Punished by her own existence

To her

Nothing makes sense

Where and when it all began

The plan

Of universe

The mess

She has fallen into

Step one

Step two

Step one thousand & eighty three

When will she get free

For she wants no more

Of hopes and words

Sticks and stones and swords

Mean nothing to her

For

She fears the unseen

She wince

In pain

I quit she says

Yet she stays

On the road to nowhere

So much of moving

Still is here

She never moved

She never will

Standing still

Even after years of struggle

In the misty road of pain

She snuggles

up to herself in vain

How long has she been walking?

How long has this sadness been stalking?

She asks once more

She has lost the count and score

It comes back to

Step one

Step two

Some more tears

Another silent sniffle

And step three

Step four

Hundred more

To go

Thousands more to count

While she continues to mount…!!!

Alter ego and doppelganger…not everyone has a Barbie house fantasy!!!!

What would you do to know that you are not alone? I mean to know that there are actually people like you, actual real breathing people…who are just like you. Knowing that you aren’t the only kind in the world is a priceless feeling.

I have never met someone like me but I would like to believe that one day I would. I would like to take comfort in the fact that am not the only one like im, there are so many nut heads like me. Who are good people, but messed up like me.

I don’t know why its important for me to know this or to meet someone like me. But it kind of makes world less scary and empty.

Posted from WordPress for Windows Phone

a lonely star in a cloudy sky…!!!!

Im having a bad week…i can take all the things the punches of life thrown at me but when its someone in the family i dont know how to deal with it. My father is unwell, but im more worried about my mother.

I have never felt so lonely in my life, guess its the week. I found this song yesterday and it brought both smile and tears. Truth is i love mushy cute romantic proposals but that’s something i rather keep to myself.

There is a world outside my world…!!!!

I have a postcard from Germany, it was given to me by one of our interns Eduard, and sometimes i look at the places on the postcard and wish i could be there. I imagine myself walking on the street or the promenade pictured on the postcard.

I should better go and sleep but im hungry. One more day before i can rejoice the freedom of not getting up early in morning. I want to make myself coffee and watch a Meg Ryan movie but i have Gotham tomorrow.  So i guess i have no option but to go sleep.

I’m kind of missing Snowy alot today; my room feels so empty and sad. Maybe that’s why i can feel tears threatening to fall out.

Goodnight world!