Skip to main content

#4


Yesterday when I tried to figure out the actual meaning of life, the images that just flashed through my mind were the trodden and the untrodden paths, the autumn season, the ebbing away of tides,the mating of animals,the plethora of stars and the fierce demons with an urge to pull everything towards them. Each one signifying the hopes and tribulations of life and when one image fades out another pops up launching a new episode and then I realised the impossibility of creating a collage out of these images.
A.C

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Diary!

Now this has become my Diary!  Even if I fail to become famous person at the time of my death..this may definitely define me..my words are my thoughts..and my thoughts represents Me !! Sometimes even if we are not able attain our dreams and desires..God somehow makes us happy. Or gives us another way to be happy with his Midas Touch !!! He is a great magician who enchants us with his magic. So i have decided to face life as it comes..because sometimes the best solution is just let it go !! A.C
Post a Comment
Read more

No Worries!

I really wonder why people around me worries a lot. They stress on some matters as if it some great disaster is about to come.. We have this sole life and spending this whole life vexed on trivial things means wasting our valuable moments.Instead of that why can't people cherish their memories ? At least it can create a smile on their faces. Spread smiles and relax your cheek muscles. Travel lonely and accompany no one. Purchase and feel everything. Make this your motto and live a better life. You can die a better man. A.C
Post a Comment
Read more

Murmurings of Married Women

  I hear murmurings from the graveyard In the West of the town,  Of married women,  Dead and disappeared years ago.  I wonder what a time they had,  What a life they lived.  Their husbands weep and weep and forget them,  They praise how they looked after their women,  Covering in glittery gold,  Buying them silly silks,  Giving makeup for a make-over.  But still, the women murmur,  Their voices seem to break the edges of tombs.  They force the sun to dry out the flowers on them quickly.  I lowered my face and listened to the tombs,  It seems their lipstick was revolting,  Their eyelashes lifted to show the desperation.  They talk about the lies they had to live through,  In fear of strangers' pointing fingers on getting a hint on their unhappy marriages.  They call out their abusive partners,  Told me to look for the broken bangles behind the kitchen for proof,  The blood-stained clo...
Post a Comment
Read more