Sunday, August 4, 2013

Because it's true

No, my love. It's not the way you turn a deaf ear to when I speak. I've realised that you do listen. You just pretend not to - What we have is a little bit of a fairytale.

No, my love. It's not the way you don't find me witty - I've learnt that our senses of humour are different.

And no, my darling. It's not the way you pick on my flaws - I've understood that you love me despite them.

What we have is a part of a story,
a taste of a slightly star crossed romance,
mixed in a half written sad song
written on pages with blue ink,
carried away in the wind.

It's beautiful,
it's a little broken,
but it's strong enough
to stand on it's own.

Just like us.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Through the Looking Glass

There is a boy living in my mirror. Not any normal Boy of course. Normal Boys don't do things like play in the mud or get perfect scores on tests or live in mirrors. He's a strange, beautiful, enchanting boy. The type of boy who is found in a fairy tale. When he laughs it's as if the world laughs with him.

No one else seems to see the boy. My mother’s too busy. My father, don’t see him often. The other kids believe such a strange boy like him could ever be anything but, strange. It's like I'm the only one who cares at all. I wish they would see how amazing he really is. The Boy is extremely talented. He gets straight A's and can play three instruments. Algebra is a piece of cake and he reads Keats and Gibran for fun. No one cares about that either.

"Hey Dad! He can spell cytoplasm!"

"That's nice."

"Look, he wrote a poem Mom!"

"um hmm."

No one will listen. The boy is lonely because I'm his only friend. I told him that it doesn't matter because the other people aren't worthy of being his friends. He's still sad. He never smiles any more. I wish he would.

The Boy isn't the same any more. He won’t talk to me or anyone else. He's stopped studying or being creative. It's not worth the trouble if no one notices. All his stories and poems have been thrown away. Shakespeare was flung into the fire. His grades have gone downhill. The instruments have corroded away.

He's started being sarcastic and uncaring. He makes fun of the kids that were like the old mirror Boy. Everyone loves him now. Everyone but me. I hate the Boy in the mirror. He's ugly and stupid with his group of superficial "friends." He's not worth being my friend anymore. Too bad I'm stuck with him, because every time I look in the mirror he's there. Staring back at me.

I broke the mirror today. He's still there.

To the Looking-Glass world it was Alice that said
"I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head.
Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be
Come dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen and Me!"

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Forever Yours

"Have you ever believed in forever?" I knew it was an odd question to ask, but I couldn't stop myself as the words spilt from my lips faster then the amber liquid did into her wine glass. I looked at her as she took a few sips of the drink pausing only to light a cigarette.

"I did once. It was a long time ago though." She blew out a puff of smoke into my face with a smirk on her lips, her eyes half lidded. I could clearly see the black eyeliner sitting just above her eye lashes.

She looked beautiful, I noted, as the smoke dissipated in the air. Her smirk was mysterious and her eyes the deepest black I had ever seen, framed by thick lush lashes.

But beneath the surface; beneath the amusement was an emotion I knew too well.


"What happened?" I asked.

She took another drag of smoke and slowly let it out again, closing her eyes briefly. She looked peacefuly asleep for a moment, but when she opened her eyes again, I saw the tears.

"It ended."

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Blurring Reality

The boy had just finished reading another article on the economic policies of the government. It was already past 2 am on a cold foggy December night when he realised how cold he was. He tossed aside the paper and snug back to his bed for warmth and a good night sleep.

"Hey are you deaf..? look at me Dammit when I am talking to you" he yelled.

The guy got up from his chair and walked away on the street. The boy was thoroughly confused. There was a sea of humanity around him and yet no one gave a second look towards the boy. Everyone was walking nonchalantly as if he was just thin air.

He started walking away baffled, when he saw a queer old woman staring at him. She was really old, judging by the wrinkles on her face and the way she leaned her upper body on her walking stick. And yet there was a certain calmness to her demeanor. A faint smile appeared on her face.

"Old woman, can you see me?" He asked

She nodded. He was a tad relieved to know that at least she could see him.

"What is meaning of this?" he asked waving his hands around him

She didn't reply for quite some time.

"Are you ready?" She said calmly in a low voice.

"Ready? what do you mean ready?" he said agitatedly. He was expecting much more from her.

"Ready for what?" he said annoyed

She smiled enigmatically and said, " Ready for the next journey."

It then hit him hard on. "Do you mean I am dead?"

The old woman smiled her enigmatic smile again and said, " You have time to say goodbye to just one person, other than your family."

The boy nodded in understanding. As he did he found himself in an open white coloured void. As he started thinking of that one person, his ex-girlfriend appeared before him.

He finally knew what he had to do. He knew he had to tell her that he still loved her. He was glad he had an opportunity to tell her how wrong he was. As he tried to take a step towards her, he realised he couldn't move no matter how hard he tried. To his horror, her image started fading away. He tried to look around for the old woman for an explanation. But all he could see was bright white light in his eyes with its intensity increasing. He blinked and opened his eyes to see the sunlight streaming through the window shades on his face.

The boy sat up with a start. How glad he was to be back to the reality. He came to a conclusion that the dream was an indication to something important.

He decided to get back with his ex girlfriend and make up for the lost time and feelings. He grabbed his phone and dialed her cell.


"Hey it's me" he said.

"oh it's you" she said with a hint of dryness. "Listen I am with someone, I'll have to call you later."

"No problem" he said, " I just wanted to tell you something but that's ok, we can talk later yeah?"

"Um yeah sure"

"Btw, who are you with?"

"Look I really need to go"

"yes I get that, but just out of curiosity, who are you out with?"

"Listen this is really getting weird ok. I don't want to talk to you now. I am hanging up."


The boy didn't know if to scream or to weep.

He got out of bed and walked over to the washbasin. He splashed cold water on his face.

He had finally woken up from his Dream to Reality.

Monday, November 1, 2010

The Rose

I once saw a lonely Woman sitting in a park, the winter afternoon sun playing softly across her features. Looking at her lifeless face, I felt bad for her. I wanted her to feel better. So I went to her and offered her a rose. She looked at the rose, then at me and asked me why?

"Because you seemed lonely" i said smiling.

She took the rose and said "thank you for noticing." I could see her lips curving at the corners. She looked pretty when she smiled.

"But if you wanted to give me something why couldn’t you give me a friend?"

"A Friend?" I asked, thoughtfully. "Is that as precious as a rose?"

"A Friend" she said "Is like hundred roses everyday"

"Then i will give you a friend!" I said smiling. "Where can i find one..?"

She laughed. "It can very well be you." Then she smiled "If you want"

And since that day, i gave her more roses than anyone could ever count. And she gave me back even more.

What about you? How many roses have you given..?

Morning comes and morning goes with no regret
And evening brings the memories I can't forget
Empty rooms that echo as I climb the stairs
And empty clothes that drape and fall on empty chairs
~ Don McLean

Saturday, February 20, 2010

The flame who loved

The couple sat and ate as the piano man played. The candle sat on the table and the flame danced to the music of the piano, but they paid it no attention. She was born to dance and dance she did. She swayed in the breeze, stretched to tippy toes and crouched to her feet, but they paid it no attention.

His eyes fell upon the flame with an intense gaze and she fell in love. His eyes reflected her light and sparkled with her passion. His eyes strayed and she danced only for him. The couple spoke and ate and laughed for an hour but soon grew weary. The flame knew this would be her last chance to act. She backed to the edge of her candle and leapt toward him. She landed on his coat and hugged him tightly and crackled words of love to him.

He jumped up in a fright and threw his water onto her. She cried out in a vicious hiss and her life ended in a puff of smoke. The couple paid the waiter and left.

The waiter saw an unlit candle on a table and lit it for the next couple and the flame danced to the music of the piano.


Sunday, January 3, 2010

Paper Thoughts

I’m writing down my thoughts on paper planes, before letting them go and dropping them one by one into the sky. As they fall through the air, they'll land among the clouds and send ripples through heaven, and I’ll smile because I know that someone will pick up my thoughts eventually.

I’ll look at that ocean of a sky and wait until my planes disappear into the horizon, and I’ll wait and wait and wait until I see that someone perhaps has picked them up and read them, and decided to send one back. I’ll pick up that fragile sheet of paper, and read their thoughts, those beautiful things which humans dream up, and I'll smile.

Then I’ll place that plane back into the sky and watch as it floats off to join the others.
Maybe one day, my planes will come back to me.


Inspired by Serendipitous conversations with long lost Friend