The Day I Chained Myself

Everything around me is covered with sand. Covered won't be the right word, it would be more appropriate to say: draped with a thick, grainy , velvet blanket of sand. I can feel tiny particles of sand struggling to get down the throat every second as I breathe. I'm tired and exhausted. I had heard that this was an oasis but all I see around me are everyday objects of sand thrown carelessly in the middle of the desert. I hear a sound. A faint, distant buzz. The wind had been the only voice I had been hearing for... two weeks... or was it a month?! I move towards the buzzing sound with a small hope flickering hope like a firefly trying to light up on a dark, drenching night. The sound is getting clearer as I make my way towards it through sand that gulped my feet with every step I take. I see it. Its a small transistor radio. I rush towards it,wobbling in the sand. I sit beside it looking at it intently. Its covered with a thick layer of sand too but the profound sense if happiness at hearing a different voice is mesmerizing. I want to touch the knob in hope to hear a human voice if I tune a channel, but unconscious fear has chained me to its post. What if my single touch turns the radio into mere dust. Dust that suffocated my throat as a price for every breath I take!

posted from Bloggeroid

Drench Me In Life!

My eyes are closed and I can hear silence. It is whispering in my ear, so softly that it is hard for me to understand the secrets its trying to tell me. Its riding on the morning breeze and drifts by me in a flash just like the tangy, zingy flavour as you bite the rind of a freshly picked orange by accident. 

Its an early spring morning and as I lay naked on this six feet wide road that zigzags between an expanse of mustard fields like a snake; the pebbly, nipping road tickles my back while a gush of wind caresses my bare skin leaving me with a spasmodic shudder.

The sun yawns lazily upon my feet, tingling and stealthily balming my almost numb body.

Its a beautiful feeling as i am laying there oxidizing my gold-leafed body in the morning zephyr.

A Spoonful of Sugar

This time I want to post in first person without the settings being some ambiguous place, and that is so because I want to share an experience with all you guys. I have been looking at people caught up in quite some situations, since a few weeks, and I couldn't make any sense out as to why they were going through all that they were but today just as I was doing some everyday chores, I realised that yes things aren't easy and maybe, we may say that people are helpless, but are we looking at things closely enough...i don;t think so!

What if we are ignoring the fact that no one ever is helpless.We all need to stand up for what we believe and and work hard for our goals and when you work this determined towards something, even Nature itself can't help but smile down at you while you fight against the tides no matter what season of the year it may be. 

So keep fighting and keep smiling and never regret anything that you do, because by the end of the day, it makes you who you are, and remember, there is nobody prettier than you (inside and out)! =)

Imprint Me In Stone

I stand in the center of a cold stone amidst the fast flowing river…on the river banks …I can see small caves jutting out here and there. I can feel something trickling down my eyes but I don’t want to know what it is. I don’t want to feel the moist trails left the trickling on my cheeks. A strong gush of wind slaps my hair across my face and lashing them in my eyes. The sun is setting at the horizon and there is a sharp orange line that slowly blends and dips into the approaching dusk, I want to drink the water from the river as it seems as if the reflective glow of the sinking sun has gold or maybe the elixir of life mixes in with it. I wonder to myself, maybe this becomes my savior as I’ll build a cave around me.

A cave similar, or if not similar, then more life-sucking than those that I see around me. Tonight, I know I’ll build a cave around me. A cave celebrating me and my existence in isolation.

But I know, as I’ll be picking up small rounded river rocks and placing them around me with the cold of the night stealthily tickling my bare feet with the stone underneath them, I’ll be visited by pixies tonight.

They will sing me hearty songs and we’ll sit around a bonfire eating marshmallows. They will tell me stories of fairies and nymphs and seeing their big, round eyes flicker in the light of the fire and their shiny noses and content smiles, I know I’ll dose of in a tranquil slumber and enter a meadow dotted with daisies and cashmere sheep here and there.

Morning Kiss

Have you ever woken up early enough in the morning to feel a slight twinge of cold reaching out through your toes as you lay half dead in your bed not wanting to get out? It’s a good day.  You haven’t opened the windows to see the sky or anything but you know that it’s a good day and everything is going to be perfect…as perfect as brown fuzzy cashmere goat kids bouncing on lush green hillside. Or more precisely as perfect as autumn leaves swiveling in the air to a rhythm of their own, trying to reach the ground as the sun kisses the sky in a most gentle and tangy peach.

I Sit Rabbit-less

I sit under the bed. It is dark all around me. I can make out the outline of the furniture in the room. The furniture is heaving and breathing heavily and I seem to be hiding from these lurking monsters under the salvage protection of mine, hugging my knees close to my chest. My toes are cold and numb but I can feel sweat trickling down my hunched shoulders. I can see the legs of the chest of drawers. I know its waiting for me outside and the moment I get out the drawers will snap open and envelope me in its pitch darkness. I will be shut and locked in those drawers forever and they will make sure that the keys are thrown in some ditch or may be a rabbit hole that is abandoned. A part of me wishes that I was Alice and some White Rabbit could run down a few ditches and holes trying to find the keys for the locked drawers and fervently looking at his pocket-watch and singing, “ I'm late. I'm late. For a very important date. No time to say "Hello."  Goodbye.  I'm late, I'm late, I'm late.”…

A Winter Toast

I want to crunch crispy corn flakes and sip chocolate-flavoured milk with the sharp eccentric tinge of cocoa with its bitter sweet essence. I want to dive into a lake of warm and zesty spring water and feel the water slide over and under my skin like liquid gold under the cold momentary stare of a winter sun. I want to live. I want to smile with a glint in my eyes that says yes. What am I agreeing to, I know not myself. But yes, I’ll say yes to a smile with the a warm flicker in my eyes like the one that you sometimes see in a small bonfire on the beach on a freezing winter night, while you sit snuggled in your blanket. Snuggling up to that worn-out blanket and just smiling to yourself.