Teardrop On The Fire.

Plop! Plop! Plop! water droplets spattering on window wood frame.
She listens, She hears the whoosing rain playing strange music. The window glass is closed and as gone deeper in the room the sound of the water droplets were transited into the tick-tock of the golden clock in the corner. the room is tidingly empty with a lady siting on a chair silently with a book on her lap. It’s heavily down-pouring since morning now its afternoon and the sky seems to be welcoming night already. The vicious rain is inexhaustible with roars. But the room is as calm as those candle lights without wind. There are candle stands adormenting the dark room, in every corner the flames of every candle dancing slowly snake-like. The lady is peacefully reading her book with a satisfied smile on her lips. As though she is immune to the rain. She closes the book and becomes contemplative over the window glass that show the gray sky and contrasted foliage withering before each other.
The brutal rain have no mercy for them. The baleful rain start tapping fast on the window then beat. Then the sky roared. She leans back not breaking her eye-contact on the glass window. flashback comes to her eyes.
*she was screaming in the foggy rain at the edge of the flood stream ‘stop don’t go there its puddle everywhere.’ ‘Isn’t it beautiful. the rain I want a closer view’ someone said deliriously. Before she could protest another thunder roared. They both look up and when she looked straight, he was gone, leaving only a shout to echo in the woods.*

Her body jerks forward her eyes wet and puffy she realizes the tickling of the clock and hearth-like room illuminating. She smiles triumphantly and solidified herself while controlling her breathing. She was protected against the disaster. Ever since that day she had embraced the light of candle. The nemesis of water. Fire!
She cant be harmed. she rises from the chair walks through a corridor with a swirl of her black gown while the candle stands greeting her figure and her shadow follows her obediently. She walks along with sullen determination. She glances her face in the mirror with a pride. The mirror shows her existence. All of a sudden she catches a spark in the mirror. Before she can look back. The fire surrounds her. Raging, with no mercy and companionship. Tropic aura was suddenly evaporated. The fire further emblazoned the dark room and she saw slow painful mother nature death awaiting. Her muffled screams could be heard in the woods while spattering rain continues..

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Ruined By The Love

On a vast desert a falcon circled itself in the zenith of hot sky, and stood on the Erg and surveyed the vast red desert. On the south of it was the dunes, rolling in waves over a hundred feet high. From this distance, in the sun setting light, they looked liked blood talons ripping the sand.
Behind the desert rose the Atlas Mountains still purpled with shadow. Wasteland it was called. A secret was buried in the sand of time. The secret was not hidden beneath a rock in the desert. Nor it was tucked inside a musty library. It was hidden within the soft whispered tales of the tribals who, have heard of it from their ancestors, witnessed the lamentations of the wind in the night when the scent of night-blooming Jasmine pervaded the air.
The secret was hidden in the very sounds of the desert–in the mysterious whispers of rocks and stones themselves. It was the tale of a woman who had once long walked and on the desert. Searching for her reason to live. neither water nor refuge she sought. She had looked at every direction to seek her beloved who had abandoned her, she would look intently and frantically just to catch his tiniest part in the vast wasteland but there was no soul except the cries of desert on her fate.
Helplessly she sat on the ground and would again get up to search again and again. The departure was maddening her. She silently looked up at the sky and wished she would wake up from this nightmare, reality was crushing her every minute. She did not have any belongings of him so she wrote his name on the sand, touched it affectionately as though it was a real person.

And then it came–the help from the desert. A mighty sandy storm, despairingly she looked up from ground, and saw the storm coming, and smiled, for she couldn’t look beyond the thick dark lens of love in her eyes. She was bound body and soul. She wanted the wasteland to collapse and swallow her thorbing heart.
Surely she wants to die. It seemed to her the only cure for her mix poignant emotions of anger, melancholy and most of all being deserted.
As the sandy storm’s sound grew louder like the roar of the sea. She flattened into the sand and lay there trying to breathe. And then she thought: “she feared death not because its painful but she would never be able to see him.”
And became an ancient ruin.

As I giggled and steadied my pace through the exit door in hope of not being caught by my sister behind me for sneaking in her stuff, I realised I had reached 20 feet far from the door and all her running noise disappeared she hadn’t followed me outside and I standed there alone staring at the door casting white light on the grass of the door step. Before I could think anything else my mind jolted upon the thought of the unwonted view from where I was standing. The surrounding were occupied with light–moonlight the darker shade of dusk enhancing it on the foliage garden, and I realised the moonlight made everything look different under its yellow tipped light for it shown unceasingly as if it know what vicious influence It had on the earth. As though monitoring their every living move.
The Moonlight made the garden unfamiliar of which flowers dipped with narcosis fluid humming silently.For a moment I stared them unblinkingly at the garden and thought myself lost in another planet or it might had been that everyone else has had abandoned me. And the grass I was standing on was not trustworthy anymore. Moreover what I pryed upon was the corners of the garden as if each one of them opening secret passages. Still I standed there to sense something familiar to remain undaunted, but as the tiny grasshopper vibrated itself. It felt different. As it is is warning me to go back, and I had stepped on his territory of tranquility. And that I should leave his place at once. I looked back at the door, my only protection and then at the trees above and a feeling of bereave hit me, they seemed unfriendly and unaltristic as if they are being occupied by some strange Planet creature invaded earth overnight and are engaged dominating it.
The mixed feeling of curiousty and fear lit up and the impulse to see the unseen extraterrestrial from outer space, but first my aiming was to find a safety platform the door Which seemed unreachable far as I decided to run towards it abruptly, but still I waited to see if the wind is same to the trees but it was, the view remained motionless. I reached door and looked at the view again and asked myself that why moon is reacting that way. Made me wonder what moon possess whether the moon has invaded earth or some other kind invaded moon.

Just Confronting My Grief.

The car stopped on the beach side road, and she stepped out of the car inhaling her memories for the last time, as though smoking a cigarette and holding it for a moment and then puffing her memories all away, and freeing herself. Her saddened wet broken mascara eyes scouring the sound of the running sea. She faced the sight her eyes first capturing the palm trees on sand adormenting the endless midnight blue sea behind those trees, sea writhingly running and committing itself to shores and then eluding them. Watching such sight she felt shivers of intoxication swirling around her making her face pale and cold. She leaned herself to roof of the car by both her arms resting on top, she was not tired but only enthralled by the view.She lingered on her acclimatization to this part of town at night. She was glad that the sky was thickened making it moon-less night; she didn’t want the monotony then. Her mind drunk from the opiate night while a pleasing smile was playing on her lips. Her gazes dropped on the corner where there was a guy sitting on bench, he seemed to be familiar with that place. She concentrated hard on him, she watched his gaze fixed straight at his front view; the road poles, boring burning colored lights. But more immersed in his thoughts “Sitting all alone confronting your grief” the girl told herself about him. It was easy to calculate someone’s thoughts forms,who is surrounded by such beauty and not accepting the reality. For he was focused hard on his thoughts. “Don’t let this beautiful moment go, embrace it, you may never know it again” she murmured to herself opiated by the wind. She wanted to scream at him.She had the urge to know him. “There’s so much to be thankful of than crying over for having lost something” she said in the rhythmic winds. A tear boiled in his eye and spattered on his cheek gently. The girl was now convinced of the veiled gray cloud above him. Victimized by melancholy so great that he had dismissed the reality the power of now. The girl indistinctly turned her gazes and looked far over the shallow sea under the midnight blue sky, while the wild foliage on sand shivered with wind. She couldn’t hold herself back anymore. She wanted to comfort the stranger by telling to look at the beauty around him for once. All of a sudden the stranger felt pang of shock and he looked around him averting his mind to presence. He looked at the girl staring right at him. The girl hesitated having been caught staring at him for long. They both kept looking at each other Until a wind blew and a tear rolled down on the girl’s cheek induced the guy to believe she herself was facing grief and she had came here to do so. They both came to so. And they of-course had failed until that very moment of their encounter where they’ve had surrendered. Something in the air and sight was so exquisite that they became oblivious of their grief, returned to their innocence as though the word has never occurred to them. The world became beautiful for them again. And honest smile exchanged from both their lips, they have let it with all they had. As though making a promise to each other they needn’t to elude their grief for it was already fainted. Now it was just the present moment. A bond had tied between them.

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Baby’s Day In.

It all started when that little one, an age  of 1 and a half year old smirked at me assuring me and giving me the look of  “I’m such a good boy” with halo around his head. and then the chuckled with slightly tongue out, below his 2 bunny teeth while his tender fat hands clapped together.

I Aw-ed and took him in my arms, setting off to take him home with me for a whole week. I’m not sure when was I victimize of complete exhaustion and sleep panic disorder before, But surely I have come to terms of it. Never believed in circus tricks but juggling myself with one hand shaking a clattery toy to him while the other hiding all the significant, utilitarian and household stuff under the bed, while he screamed out of his lungs and I would just rush to prepare a bottle for him, Kicking all the squeaky animal toys and cloths in the way made me believed how grueling circus job is.

After much dancing on his fingers and singing him poems to keep him cheerful, There came a time when he would give up his strength and declare to sleep, That would light up a hope in me to relax myself a bit which was abruptly washed away with the innocent sign that he gave “standing his hands both above towards me” and then with a yawn and one hand cupped rubbing his eye. Swallowing hard I picked him up while he headed down on my shoulder, After fine 10 minutes of burden, the point when I was panting, I put him down in his crib. I heard a little irking noise of sobs which paralyzed my fugitivite, leaving me sighing inwardly. I laid him close to me gradually passing out and then panic-kingly awaking to tap him or caressing his hairs.

The week past in a blur not because I was having happiest days of my life, But because the circumstances didn’t give a chance to even look at the clock, As the “little one” demanded total attentiveness. Finally the time came when I had to say goodbye to him. My feelings of relief and pang of loneliness set in.

As the “little one” jumped in his mother’s arms left with the look of concern. Wide eyes, Fingers in his mouth and thousands of questions in his tiny head. I wiped my tears and sat for a long time and recalled all his mischievousness along with hellishly adorable looks in his face. for instance; times when he would pick up something tiny from the ground only visible to him and have the tendency to find it extremely delicious with his mouth already producing sound of chomping. He would look me in the eye, Smiling and then forming that smile into a frightened look with eyes wide at the same time and compiling his hands in a high five and clapped letting the tiny substance inside his mouth. Deception I would say (what a smartie)
However I would burst out running grabbing him and guiding him to spit it out, Before his mother kills me. Which is undoubtedly implicitly understood that I am to shouldered the blame of his havocking troubles.
All in all that little one marked a shade of realization in me that everything I did was merely for I was undeniably in love with him with, With my Nephew.

Aaliyan

She often wears Red Lipstick, People think she is the most fashionable trendy, who loves partying. But the truth is she is the most saddest girl they might know; And that her wearing Red Lipstick veils it all, Deprive her to enjoy her loneliness, gives her a companion in the mirror which she seeks in darkness of her life

A companion to whom she can laugh, dance and cry with; ending up looking elegant & classy of the blended Red Lipstick

In the hall filled with chattering people she sits alone with her mind preoccupied of the amazement of every trivial thing occupied with worldly cares responsibilities.

She steps out of the darkening mist that envelopes the street each morning,She walks alone as if she has a destination. Her pale skin seems translucent, its fairness accentuated by the cascade of dark sloppy brown hairs, her eyes filled with deep sorrows yet her impeccable Lipstick veils it all. She walks kicking her boots in the mud the warm mist rising from valley brings a fragrance so heavy that it saturates everything but her Red Cherry Lipstick.  Her sobs piercing the thick mist,  A few tears come to soften her seared vision, she waits for her melancholy to cause her so that her tears can completely shred  releasing her from her sorrows.

And yet her only solace is the satisfaction she gets from just doing simple little things like playing with the kids in the streets, adoring nature and affectioned with feeble creatures surrounded by her.

It lights up her heart enough to become unaware of her melancholy

And Red Lipstick stays on her lips to assure an encouraging companionship!

Fading tan!

What fabulous wintery month its been! Reading books and writing prompts and spending time with birds and nephew and hibernating all nighter!
The weather was sexy, as in extremely cold. hangouts, and sitting beside fire while bbq-ing, Waking up in the middle of the night and flipping channels until i find something horror to watch,and make my sister watch it with me, so then i don’t freak out. then i would go to play some of the latest high graphic games until my head starts to hurting… Calling my friend in the early morning to say i can’t make it up to the college today because ive caught cold and bad throat!
Waking up late in the day, and i would go to terrace just to heal myself with warm bright sunshine, and have my own made delicious brunch!
Saying NO to sports, and YES to ice creams,chocolate icy smoothe, and peanuts! And everything nice and icy.
Hairs have gotten a bit longer finally, Eeeep! Fresh skin, fairer, and the tan is fading, and laziness at it’s best level.
In SHORT… Best winter days ive ever had…!

Everlasting Joy!

Skating. A feeling when you’re moving through wind on the ground, leaving things behind more faster than usual walking… Kicking the ground when im slow down, and then stand in a swagger, hands in my pockets, mischief smile on my face! Its all about how you move-and your skates are an involuntary extension of yourself, you love to be in motion. You love to be Outdoor person. You love to feel your body cheat the wind as you experience freedom of movement and find out how fast and how far you can go! Spins and dancing in rain having its way with the wind. And when I would go down, The wind blow my hairs, causing my cheeks blush, headphones on, whooting till im stopped. And saying that’s how i Enjoy life!

Anti-Ageing

Age is something people can not stop–It is a natural phenomenon, Which can not be denied. From women’s teenage to their 30s they are content with their natural glow face skin which God has bestowed upon them! When they are too busy in their lives they underestimate their diets and fitness as a result they want to undermine ageing and control it as much as they can! Infact all women in their 40s and 50s now look super. The age of Botox, Lifts, Gymming, Detox, Spas is making age merely a number! On the other hand our celebrities are willing to reach at any level for controlling age, By unfavorable surgeries, Expensive ones! And eventually they get 10 years younger skin, Along with that they get the perfect reason to tell their age much younger then they actually are!
The question is how long can they live in denial, and take surgeries? They will be growing up older and older, And unfortunately scientist haven’t invented something grand to control ageing or rejuventing drink or a time machine.
Therefore my real question arises That why its hard for a women to tell her precise age? The reasons could be numerous and consequently it bothers me, Ive thought of a way out for those who agree with me at some points, it will be effortless for all in their 20s who will be having these intentions.
Instead of lieing why not make yourself look older, in a way which will be appreciated? Act confidently, develop yourself professionally and mentally, be established and smart enough so that you wouldn’t be worrying about growing while you are young, and then people by face tell you, hey you look younger than you actually are! And there you will get the most tremendous compliment of your life!