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Saturday, 25 January 2014

Travelers ...

There was something that day which told me “Go lose yourself”, and I did. I lost myself, on purpose, not knowing why, not questioning. I got lost and I travelled paths. Long, short, lost, found, lonely, crowded, intimate paths.  Paths that told me a thousand stories and paths to which I conveyed a million thoughts. All safe and secure.

There was no end to any road I traveled; in fact I am still travelling. Well, then again, aren't we all? Like lost ghosts, with pasts haunting us, with futures troubling us and with the present, so sweetly terrifying in its own way. Beholding everything that is changing us by the second, with every step we are taking. From the first cry till the last breath and all the heartbeats that fill up the bittersweet gap in between.

Meeting new ghosts at crossroads with their own stories, paths. Flowing with time. Souls lost in a maze trying to find our way out through every dead end. Finding a new self at every turn. Perceptions getting refreshed every second and thoughts like untamed horses. New horizons, new dimensions in a single maze. Hills, valleys and entire oceans to overcome, maybe alone, maybe together.


Trying to find the one soul who speaks the exact demon dialect you do. And the last whisper “Let’s get lost together”.

Sunday, 19 January 2014

Winter Rain ...

It was a cold and chilly day, the day we met. Freezing temperatures. That one road traveled so many times with its birth and repairs and cracks and the many silent scars it bore. The numerous stories it was witness to, new beginnings and the many adieus it silently heard.

It was pouring hard,the drops like piercing needles with a painful numbness. It continued like that, monotonous and gloomy. That was when I heard her for the first time. So much life in that faint laughter, so much joy as if she had known so much pain that something so petty like the winter rain could make her so ecstatic.

Yeah, there she was. Smiling and laughing without any reason. Dancing in the rain. And the lighting danced along with her and thunder played the playlist and I stood there, hypnotized.
She was passionate about the rain, and I was passionate about the way she loved it. She was beautiful, like a volcano, erupting with joy, like a forest fire, with no confinement, she was the spark I yearned for.

"I was never insane, except upon occasions when my heart was touched." - Edgar Allen Poe.