The White Pebbles.

It was near a green hillock, in the valley; I saw a tiny brook oozing out down to touch a stream. it was flowing westwards deep into the sea. I saw the smooth round pebbles reposing to the music made by the gushing water. I saw a few white pebbles untouched by the glory of sunlight glitter at my sight. I could feel their warmth, bliss and shine, hooking its sharp wedge onto my eyes. I knew it would be a gift worth to speak my love.

I knelt down to the brook, cupped in my hands a tiny part of it, and splashed it onto my dreary face. The sleepy me was revitalised. Somewhere far, I heard cacophony of some unknown birds. Above me it was various thick green hues’s and textures of spread out leaves. I saw my shuddering reflection surrealistically staring at me. But my eyes were searching the pebbles, which I would gift to my lover. Wouldn't be she a lucky soul, lucky enough to hear my heartbeats inside a tiny little stone?

I saw the white shiny-curvy stones faintly through the growing ripples. As caught in a chilly mist inside the flowing water they seemed liked a bunch of fledgling’s waiting for their mother bird’s broad warmer wings. They were mirthless and feeble. All sorts of images went pass through by my mind. But I was eager to pick one pebble only to gift her, her childhood innocence, which made the white pebbles more precious than any great diamonds chiselled.

Feeling the chillness of the flowing icy water, I touched them. I felt the roundness; smoothness and the inheritance of unrequited love which they were unable to unwind to the flowing stream, caressing them for ages. I knew they were big boulders before. I could sense the transition; an electrifying spark was entering my veins. I was blessed by them; 'the sacred white pebbles'. How lucky would be my girl when she’ll hold this tiny sand-sphere of love in her timid hands? I’m sure her eyes will learn how to wear a smile, how not to drop no tears; and to understand love much beyond the grin of a pretty face.

I picked a stone to gift, but I placed it back.
.

What I forgot to behold?

At times I know, even the freezing January mist doesn’t give me the solace to be me. I wonder what I’ve dreamt, foreseen willingly has remained a dream. What does it took from me? What made my path unclear? Isn’t it what my cognition gone dumb? Or is it the way things have to be after you lose your heart that was not ticking inside you?

I’ve been never so this unanswered, never was a nerd as of now, I live sleeping the day and playing with the night. I never knew the life would show me such a grotesque face painted with the arrogance of abstract defiance. I fell short, counting on my ignorance; I forgot to live for me. I forgot I was selfish. I forgot I had to catch a moon that was blue!

I forgot to behold, to persuade my innocence that was inspiring me. little did i wish to realize - we are two different psyche; two poles apart.
.

My Cape of Good Hope

When I had no words to adorn my love I prefixed ‘lost’ with it. Love was my self made belief, solace and was my realm of comfortness; inspired by her. A happy heart was me inside my fool’s paradise. But when you understand no illusion is a perpetual joy, you get into the groove of ground reality. Your mental state will confine to the life now, you start to think like a man.

Love always soothes you to the near perfect human being, although perfection is much more of pretence. Even if the love leaves you unblessed, it nourishes and revives you with its perennial charm. It makes your heart, the purest part of you. It makes you a new self-effacing creep that you weren’t never before. You become a gentleman within no time. You now forget to think like a man!

When you’re in love you follow no other language than your heart’s vibes nor do you listen to any better music than the melody of your heart’s pound. You get melted in the ‘cape of good hope’ (not found on any maps) stranded, searching the shape of your soul in the cutest white pearls. The magic spell of love trounces you to the abyss of your dreams to make you struggle, work hard to win what your heart desired for.

For me, love was a little too precious than the shine of the hardest substance hallmarked to be remained forever. It gave me an impetus to run without being drowned to fatigue. It was my luck ordained by her to cherish what really wasn’t real. It was a kind of love where I tried to negotiate its warmth with my destiny; but failed. It made me recognize that not all losses make you cry, but quite a few impels you to care for your simplest dream; to continue to live.
.

When you seek for, you get liberated!

When your beliefs are broken, you understand better; actually what reality is.
You recognize that you’re not anymore a mongrel of unidentified breed. You thank your time and luck that have rejoined with you. A new yellow morning helps your lungs breathe in new stack of fresh air. You start breathing hassle-free.

The unseen creepers of gloom, which were entwined to your heart gets decayed.
Your only sky above, again become cloudless, permitting you to think what were the memories lost? do memory ever get lost?

You see a flock of birds flying to their destination. They know their route, but you seek for yours. When you start seeking for the path you’ve to trudge, and the oath you’ve to keep for, the clear blue sky; which were once your inspiration to ablaze your dreams in shades of red will once again back your lucky stars.

You feel at the center stage, once again, you’re no lesser than a star. You re-discover the liberty that was guised in the oblivion that was until now. This very morning you are liberated. you seek for the better you.
.

The Women I know.

Women are always unidentified. They never allow anyone to find their inner self for their reasons to be them! They make their own rules to remain unknown. From my life, I know (If I’m not mistaken) two class of women. Among the identified two, one cluster is the ones; somehow, or at certain point of time were with me for not any of my personal reasons. They liked me, or not; I believe, they are my friends. I’ve a unique place for them.

The other one which I know (the ‘exclusive singular’ which I’m taking for the other kind) is the one I believed as mine for my special excuses. But the problem is that she wants to be in my first cluster. For my preferences she remains a difference. We are extremes in my preferred group. Who said opposite attracts! (Even if the fact remains true that in me ‘nothing special’ that shimmers.)

She taught me that love is always kissing of two hearts. It is. She reminded me the love is yet not a selfish desperate yearning of a single heart. “When you feel blossoming of a spring in your heart alone, never mistook it as love.” She whispered. I always find it hard to believe why she remained as the one who loves to say ‘love me not’.

When ‘More- than – a – friend’ dilemma confuses me, I’ve no other countenance to search for or to be replaced; to soothe my heart’s undocked pain. For me she is always an answer for my unawareness. She made me understood that it’s hard to know a woman, and the women is not the one which I pre-conceived as. She is the one I love. Now I know, as she believes; “I don’t know her!”
.

The Murderer of Love.

To be in love is,
Happiness expanded.

To engage in love is,
Emotions explored.

To separate from love is,
Ego’s energized.

To deny love is,
Circumstances cleared!

To discard love is,
No more excess love!

To Beg Love is,
Getting self killed.

In Love, I’m the Murderer of Me!
.

The Eagerness that is you!

The eagerness which was glued on you,
Is today, my longing faded by you.

The moments I made tick for you,
Is today, my youth shortened by you.

The inspiration I derived from you,
Is today, my spur gust away by you.

The love that was christened to you,
Is for all days; my tears blessed by you.
.

“Is it raining there?”

“Is it raining there?”
Yes, in my heart too…

I never had such a feeling of soothe,
I never heard your whisper go this fragile,

I never found drizzle’s sound any better!
I never felt any emotion, as piercing as you.

I never wish this sprinkle ever stop.
My dear, it is raining here, very hard.
.

To know a 'special good' person!

“You don’t know me”,
It is true that;
I never knew you anything beyond my love.


“I’m not that good person as you think!”
I never had a false belief that there is some one
Equally as good as me, me and me! Oh!

“Don’t make me ‘that’ someone special in your life”
You were true; that I don’t deserve anything special!
Indeed, I’m aware that you didn’t mean I be worthy of any life!

"No coincidences will make the sun above shine brighter for me.
Nor the Omens will spark my blue moon’s wish."
Let me better know, who I’m, when your glow is missing.

but before -

“Let me try to know a different ‘special good’ person” -
Who is not you or neither me, but the distance;
That got widened from you to me!
.

A Motivated Dream.

Dreams reveal a whole lot of things that makes you or me puzzled. Today was no other different day until I got pampered with a particular dream, which in a way, was a morale booster.

Its tweaked and faded blueprint starts from here -

A person whom I admired, abstained me from continuing a job that I was well desired for, he sacked me and drove me out. Some of my friends were sobbing with their heart, some were pacifying me, some were encouraging me, and some were praying for me in order to gift me the strength to prove what myself is I am.

Dumbstruck was I, left with no other option, packed my bag's back to home. Without enough money but with huge luggage I walked through the pavement of busy roads, weirdly alienated. Anything would prove less satisfactory for me unless it is my desire‘s unpacked!

But At times, when you yourselves are aware of the fact, the bloody fact, that you're not anymore in a herd makes you poignant enough to find your strength. You find a motivation from no where; you pick it from sand or clasp it from the breeze! But for sure, you’ll make a move.

I walked on. I had a meager meal. I searched for single room lodging. I found, I paid for it; I was on its wind swaying cot trying to gulp down some water from a steel jar. Spreading some old newspapers I lie down ignoring the decent delicate cot. “How I will get sleep? I’m getting drowned.” I said to my selves.

To be surprised I found a man hiding in that room. Before I was about to grow a mysterious fear, with a superfluous smile, finely hallmarking him, He asked, “Are you packing back home betraying your self?” I got perplexed. Erm…, I replied, “I’m No youngster than a confused lad of insipid dreams, and I myself furrowed my destiny to hell!”

The man continued smiling and said, “To hell? That sounds interesting!” you know, actually there is no one in hell, and who are in are peace lovers. All big rouges entered the heaven bribing and with corporate recommendations. In a way they’re making hell a better and peaceful place. You may even know the plight of some golden weddings which were made in heaven!

“So, you’re Lucky”, and he continued with a laugh -
“Make your Heaven out of the Hell!” he stopped laughing and walked out.

I want a day.

I want a day.

I don’t need any similar day.
I wouldn’t like to simplify the day,
Nor I would like to glorify the day
But I need a day.

I’m so mindful that this day should come along my way,
furthermore; it should carry away my woes.
It should be the day I dearly waited for.
I need this day.

I want to make most of the day.
I deliberately want this particular day.
I badly need this day.
I want today.

When will the road‘s get polished?

While I was at the school, it was a routine that, I got caught for not polishing the shoes.

Taking a schoolboy’s excuse, actually it was not my fault. I’ve to speed a long way from my home to the school. (1km was a little too long then) Trudging thorough the pothole filled road was almost equivalent to taking part in a mud rally. After Shock absorbing the path; when I reach the school, all the white things usually got yellow-balanced.

Unaware of these entire hardships, Paul sir blows his whistle signaling a mandatory lap around the football court after the morning assembly. Panting and scuffing down to earth, I and other ’victims’ disperse to the class with one big twisted ear. (The story continued, both pair of ears got equal chance to grow bigger than they thought)

Almost a decade and half after my morning marathons, twisted ears, and unpolished shoes; I’m dumbfounded to recognize the stunning fact that my ‘race track ‘is still unaltered! I only want to know whether Paul sir is still blowing his whistle and making Olympic track contenders, unknowingly.

How about planting a red rose, together?

“How about planting a red rose, together?”
The text was missing from my inbox;
No, I didn’t delete it.
I don’t know where to it got disappeared?
How I’ll find it? I don’t have a search button either!
Somehow I have to find it,
It was from my beloved’s heart.
I won’t let it go.
Oh! I realise by now, ‘all it was a sleepy dream…’
“How about planting it in my next morning dream, together?”

MY MOVE.

I’ve no other Dream to invoke me,

I’ve no other Happiness to inspire me;

My inspiration is my Dreamy Happiness.

All it happens once for a while,

To take back all that happened for vile.

I’m inspired to rebuke me for the reason,

I wasn’t I am.

I’m inspired to revive me for the reason,

I’ve to be I am.

On the groove, I’ve to impel MY MOVE.

Slow or Fast?

When on a Walk we follow a normal pace, it is we who decides to walk slow or fast.

Windy Act.

Wind blows out the fire but at times it makes the fire fiercer.