That Other..

‘I write when I feel alright’ – she said, smiling and answering a question, at her book launch.

But the color of her face, the inflection in the voice, told a different story. I had known her for long. Although today, it didn’t make much sense to lay those claims, as I sat in the audience, clapping fervently along with the others.

She had breached into my mind, many-a-times, rummaging through the compartments – that I had so carefully segregated. But there were the ones which were confined to the sanctum. I would be scared as I would hear her footsteps closing in. She was sly as a fox and compassionate as a saint – leaving me defenseless.

I tried to do that so many times myself. Emotions ensconced in reason, so that I could know. Her mind was a sanctum sanctorum. Where I parked things in pockets, she had a fortified mansion. She lived so much for every other that they drained her of herself. I was joining the league, I thought.

After a lot of struggle, I would give up. Feel her flow-in like a surge of a wave, when I would still be knocking at her door.

She got up to leave, and I sighed – ‘Maybe another 5 minutes..?’

My friend who accompanied me – started discussing her thoughts and her likings, very animatedly. And I thought to myself – ‘Oh! Really?’. I guess I would not know, or maybe it’s been a while! She must be in the pink of her health 🙂

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Inspired By Picture it and Write and Trifecta Writing Challenge

Dream Weaver

‘Dreaming of words – their feel without sight.  He lived a dream and weaved together many shattered hopes’ – she closed the book. I closed my eyes, wishing to dream, a dream like Braille did.

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Inspired by Trifecta Writing Challenge

This weekend the challenge is asking for exactly 33 of your own words inspired by the following quote from the book you could win in the WBN giveaway. Good luck!

“It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.” ― Paulo Coelho, Alchemist

Shine on me!

 

In the deep slumber of my soul, your love, My Love!, keeps me alive. Taken no prisoners, in your pursuit, but dearth of a longing wears me down.

Have searched for your love in parched eyes of men and women – who surround me in a ruckus of living life.

Triviality of the great, nadir of the top, dead humor and silent loss.

I hear of love, from claimants abound. But how could that be love, My Love!

Waxing and waning like the moon in a dark sky – so does my faith, keeps flickering all night!

I’m like a desert bare and burnt, basking under a scorching sun. You come as rain, pour into me.

I’ve waited for long – learning to long, pining to belong.

Come, shine on me. For the king only can decree – my severed soul, plundered on sea, to a restful anchor, on shores of peace.

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Inspired by Picture it and Write