Skip to main content

#11


There was a time when her wings glowed.
It was home to the shining fireflies.
Its fluttering pierced into the ears of folks.
The bright colours of the wings always created the rainbow around her.
Little did she know that the wings too would die, die into deeper solitude.
Her whole world circulated around those wings which carried her into the realms of unspoken realities.
But little did she know that the night was always jealous of her wings.
She glowed bright as Sirius in the night that every matter included her light and every being wished to be with her.
Little did she realized that there were powers of darkness that could bring her down. Down into the hell were pessimistic waters flowed and from  where the reverse rains of apocalypse poured.
Broken and disappearing, with dead wings and dead mind she lies immersed in the height of winter, desparate to find home at the least  in a tangled hair!


A.C

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I HAVE TO BE A STRONG LADY...

I have to be a strong lady.. I have to be a strong lady.. To overcome all the obstacles.. To fight against my lost love.. To fight against my fears.. To overcome my insecurities.. To stand for my love.. To stand for my strengths.. To  fullfill my dreams.. To  complete my bucket list.. To stand for my people.. To hold my head high up... To stand in my own feet.. To pen my own words.. To shop with my own money.. To help the needy.. I have to be a strong lady.. I have to be .. To survive.. To protest.. To protect my rights.. To walk at nights without fear.. To be drenched in the rain.. To overcome my frustrations.. To fight against the norms of the society.. To speak out my own words.. To sing loudly .. To dance freely .. To teach my conclusions.. To establish my own ideas.. To face the greatest threats.. I  have to be strong... Here I go with my shield of confidence, to bring back the hiding lights. And they call me a strong la...

A Second Thought

  Blankness engulfs me The thought of being dumb Decision pending... Grab my hand Take me away Away to the darkness Hell is being created here... I run to hide.. Hide beneath the blankets Goosebumps... Shiver... Fear... Owls... Houls... Blood... Tides... Thunder... Blinking lights... Black and White Steps... Gorges... Heart beats... Nightmares... Everything  transcends darkness... Orendaa!! Altar... Angels... Baby's breath... Laughs... Sunlight... Rain... Candles... Peace... Breath at last... Yes! Time to revamp my life. A.C

Of mothers, sarees and their grief

Mothers are often presented as the epitome of love in movies. The struggles, sacrifices and the quiet tiredness they carry are praised, even placed on a pedestal. But we rarely talk about their grief, the grief of unlived lives. Have you ever thought about the lives of these mothers before marriage and motherhood? Before all the giving began? So often, clad in their sarees, mothers cook and smile, clean and laugh. But is that all they ever wanted? Do they carry the weight of the shadows of their unlived lives? Many do, though they may never say it aloud. And they leave it behind for the happiness of the ones they love. I often feel that when they wipe sweat from their brows with the edge of their sarees, they catch the glimpse of their hidden grief. The loneliness and the neglect they receive, they tuck it away, fold it into the pleats of their sarees and smile again. Some may have once wanted to be doctors, teachers, dancers, writers, travellers. And even in their happiest moments, th...