‚ÄčTurning back the clock, bleary of light, 
Chaos, by the fire, the heart craves home tonight. 


Not meant to be

Picture : Pinterest

I put my hand on the couch between us, waiting for you to sluggishly brush your hand against mine, for me to turn beetroot by the intentions of your lazy contagious smile. I look over to you, too engrossed in the story on screen than in our own colorless ballad, that I could feel you slipping away form our delightful ditty and that I have ceased to be your only felicity. 

And it was a sore awakening that our hearts no longer skip beats together and that time has had its way even in our ‘come what may’. 

People give up when the lullaby ends. And so many unfulfilled dreams frizzle out. When the sparks die out, stories break off, feelings ebb away and the memories made often remain off the beaten path. And its tragic how so many ‘happily ever after’s come down to this. 

Raise Your Voice!! 

Image source : Pinterest 

You can see them wherever you go. In the bus you travel, in the streets you walk every day, in the places you visit every once in awhile. They’re everywhere. They’re all demons within whom humanity has ceased to exist. Just different faces. They try to get as close to you as possible, using the crowd as a shield to cover their impulsions. Their creepy eyes rummage through your body, waiting for the slightest display of your skin. You can feel their atrocious values digging under the lining of your clothes, right in broad daylight, in the presence of hundred others. Your disgusting looks fails to shame them and sometimes are even returned with nasty smiles that chills you to the bones. 

Yet, you decide to silently walk by, pretending to ignore the comments passed on you. Yet, you decide to let it go when they fall on you every time the bus hits the break or when their hand “accidentally” brushes against your body when they walk past you. You fear to create a scene, fear they might avenge you later, fear of what people might say. Your fear is justified for there still are some who will blame it on you. Will say that you asked for it just because you dress a certain way or are friendly to certain people or aren’t home before dark.

But you know where the truth lies and that the only ones to be blamed are them. They will carry their sick mentality along with their sick intentions no matter what you wear, how you behave, where you go, or who you’re with. Their greedy eyes don’t differentiate, be she of 23 or just 6, wearing jeans or a pink frock.  They are the people too sick to be humans. 

And so, even though some of them don’t have any serious consequences, but that doesn’t make them right neither should it be able to stop you from voicing against it. 
P. S. – Here’s my traditional weekend post. Hope you like it. 
Let me know what you think. Comments and follows will be appreciated.

Thank you. 


” She turned five today ” he said handing me a photograph.

He looks at that picture every night. The one where she was learning to walk, in her little pink frock that he’d gotten her for her first birthday, holding her daddy’s finger with all her little ones, smiling at her mom with the camera, wanting to reach her, hobbling all her way.
His pillow soaked his tears every night as he looked at his eighteen month old Emily, named after her Mother’s fascination over their ‘ Ross-and-Racheal’ like love story.

(image source : Pinterest)

Continue reading “Homesick.”

Dark Nights

In the dark nights of the soul, amid the forlorn of my room, and the dusk of my euphoria, i find myself devastated. So broken and so empty that it seems my life is going nowhere. So tired and exhausted inside that i wouldn’t mind never being found.


All by myself, I sit on my bedroom floor by the fireplace and watch the yellow flames dance in a rhythm unknown to the heart, as they make their way into consuming everything they danced upon. I hug my knees to the chest and wish to get consumed as I think about everything that went wrong in my life, everything I could have said, everybody that could have stayed. I beset myself for the wrongs that I brushed off during the day, forgiving myself.

Once in every blue moon, I succumb to the darkness within me. Let it eat me up, bit by bit. I let them take me to the shadows, to my fears, where my denied demons still exist. I let the bad defeat the good, while I look at them battle to win over me with nothing but a blank look and an empty heart.

And it is the story of those nights that i realize that there are times when a girl like me needs saving too.

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