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The Voice

Someone on the top of mountain is sitting with his eyes closed.
A man down on plains sits with his eyes closed in his house
Are they the same?
Or the same thing is speaking though them? They may be diametrically opposite but they complete the circle.
Standing on different edges of the same land, the land breaks into pieces or there was no land?
The third one in the pub with goggles has same light in his eyes,the zorba, hasn’t he renounced it all for his thirst closing his eyes while enjoying the drugs?
He lives here. He drinks wine and eat animals,how can someone who eats the dead can has so much of life? Or his case has been closed with just a string attached to this world. He walks with a scissor in his pocket.
The three men, two young and one old Zorba rides on the same log in river sitting on different ends but does it matter if they reach the same place?
It can’t be repeated again, there will no Zorba like this again and no Buddha and Krishna like those two.

Three of them call with their voice, the Buddha in caves, the Krishna on beach and the Zorba in pub. Each have their own way of calling. Zorba calls for mountaineers, mountains calls the drunk man and ocean calls for the thirsty one.
But are we prepared for our journey?

Ps- the image is taken from google


The Vessel

The Vessel

I shut the open gate hearing the thunderstorm and indistinct footsteps.
He was there before I made my place.
Waiting there, he knew me and knew I will come even before I existed. I was indulged in chores, when he called me, the noise was so loud that my ears refused to hear him.
He called daily but he was so close, my eyes refused to see him .
The room was perfect, neat and tidy, everything was on place ,but everyday I felt something wasn’t right .
The sunrays were blocked by iron curtains and there was no wind.
My breath was slow.
It bothers when the ever-changing pattern stops, it shouldn’t , its perfect in every moment.
Everything became mundane and regular.
Changes are necessary, isn’t it?
But it shouldn’t be like this, each thing has been designated its place and time.

When the frustration and anger was on heights, the Iron gate seemed melting and the voice pierced through it. The voice went straight to heart and played strings of it.

The intelligence which changed the order was futile in the end and things fell apart beautifully.

Heavy minds


Due to the lack of that one thing life has become as it is today. The void created can’t be filled with anything, it can’t be filled. The thirst can’t be quenched by any material thing. Is it all just matter?

It had begun with my creation, the day i took this form to wonder on all creation. It will end when only one remains, there is only one.

Heavy minds straining the neck.

How do you run away from something that is in your head?


Waking up in a dark room with fan on top of your head is common but staying in dark when the sunshine calls you is uncommon. The room has windows but they are shut upon the intruders who want peek in. Sunrays piercing through glass pane gives hope that life will be better. Its what keeps a person alive, riding on the verge of fire and ice.
Each night I have a dream of a child being drowned by his family and friends, they succeeded in killing him. But there is no one here, it’s only me, there was always me.
Each time a leaf leaves his creator, it dies. Why it leaves his maker who nurtures it? Does it hurt the tree too? If it does why it replaces the broken one with a green? And it goes on endlessly until the tree dies. Maybe the tree dies little by little every day.
There are billions of trees and trillions of leaves, what if one of their friend dies? Nothing. Life is insignificant whatever we do. Will this realisation lead us somewhere?
Sitting on a park bench with my head bent downwards, sweat dripping by my nose and forehead makes a pattern, but how will I know what is it until it’s completed? When will it complete? There is nothing I can do but to drop everything. What if I worry and sweat more and destroy the pattern?
I smile every day, not because I want to but because society wants me to. Smiling with clenched fists at my back. My nails ready to pierce skin of the loved one I hug so tightly that he bleeds but he won’t be the one who will, it will be me.
The flower which was once spreading fragrance is now rotten to the core. It will drop and no one will notice but someone will, maybe.
I have only one companion left, he chats in a strange voice which is more of blabbering. I am sure he will do the same when I will be gone. He is my salvation. Grateful is a small word to describe his help. We talk but we never play. I will play with him for first and last time with a rope.

Lost Part of My Heart

Walking down the street, I just forgot about giving my share to the poor lady but I remember her smile on giving her something. Unwillingly, I also gave my share of wishes to the poor man passing by in his big car. Size of his car is not proportionate to the size of his heart. On comparing the faces of both of them, I found out that the woman with the bowl is more content with the rattling of coins. Just some shackles are enough to shake his heart, he is more liberated than any of us ‘coz his desires are simple as his clothes, not being torn away by outside forces.

It was walking down the alley that I realised that a familiar voice has started to buzz in my ears, it was my phone. An unsaved contact was calling, after listening to the sound I realised that it was a contact I deleted. A person was speaking on the other side with a tone that nothing had happened but I knew the disguise in his voice ready to deceive and lure me to the same place I escaped. I dont know what he said but at last he requested to meet me, I didn’t answered, I was unable to do so. My tongue was paralysed to utter a simple “NO”. It had a brain of his own who was ready to comprehend the voice on other end. It knew that either the other end would end all suffering or will end it for good.

After the everlasting “Beeeep…….” , I realised that I am the master of my tongue not the opposite. But, it was too late for me to scold it for its deeds. I never wanted to go to the place but something was pulling me to him, a force so dominant that shuts the brain and makes your legs moving.

Walking towards my chosen destiny, every single incident of the hurt was hurting me all over again but I guess I wanted it. To avoid emptiness, we cling to agony, but the attachment with pain is blissful, that’s why we all cling to it. Isnt it?

It felt like I was about to meet a part of me again, it was left behind, but its calling me now and I had to go. We can’t just keep scattering our broken parts here and there and forget about them.

He was the person who knew me inside out and he broke me from inside out. The damage which can’t be healed from outside. I still remember when I slept in his arms trying to hide from the world in his chest. When he caressed my hairs with his slender fingers, it felt like he was unwinding my misery not my hairs, his heartbeat was the best lullaby I heard. But it hurts when the person whom you love gives you so much snatches everything in a second, the person whom you give your heart gives his to someone else. It’s strange how something which belongs to you your whole life started belonging to someone else in some days, maybe it was never ours in the first place. It was always looking for someone who will take good care of it, because we never did. Its sound echoes in eternity to find its true owner and to find him is the greatest quest ‘coz he can’t be seen simply with eyes, we need something else to recognise him.Not every veil is made of cloth, some are made of skin. Seeing behind it is not a cakewalk, we are often lured by the shining, lustrous veils only to find out the dark face.

The heart contracts and relaxes but once it contracts beyond its limit, it can’t relax until it is made to do so by someone it allows to do so.

Leaving me was his decision but begging him not to do so was mine, we all made bad decisions but learning is important, I knew about it ,also a pathetic decision but I still made it or maybe it wasn’t a decision at all.

 I still hear my sobbing sounds in shower but it has just became a melancholy, it will be played aloud the next day in shower. Water was my companion who let my tears flow my cheeks accompanying down its way to my chest where the source was located. Eyes don’t weep, it’s something else who do it when its part is lost. It has known the ways of living  without it but the question is if it wants to live like it.

His comeback hurts more than his departure, his comeback revives all the questions left unuttered, the pain of craving is devastating and its worse when you know you can’t get it back. The ray of hope he gave me pierced my soul instead of giving me a warmth. It’s like being burned from inside and is fuelled by my own thoughts. The darkest imaginations when are loosed on leash can hunt the hunter. I again came into my senses when I saw him smiling, I tried closing my eyes but it made no difference, I saw him with closed eyes, he wasn’t in one place, he was in my head too. His smile was suddenly turned ugly or it was ugly all the time. His veil was removed. I wanted to go to him and shout him ,slap him and again get lost in those familiar arms. Those arms didn’t seemed the cozy place there were once, they had become the bars to hold me. I had escaped once but I knew my death was lurking behind them ‘coz I wont escape from it again.

One my way back I knew I had done what was needed to be done, it made me strong, I didn’t ran away from it , I just came to know it wasn’t worth it. He is a dead person for me and my lost part of heart is buried with him.

May he rest in peace.





Letters from my Son

Plants needs to be nurtured everyday just like us, they can’t be abandoned under the scorching sun for long ,for they will just drain out of loneliness. But not this one, I brought it from a distant deserted land where it was accustomed of it, living by itself. Maybe ,he wasn’t like it from the beginning, it must had some friends and family, it surely had a past, everyone has. It wasn’t this dry, it didn’t had such pointy spikes for whosoever it touched, ready to pierce the skin and quench its thirst from the blood of the one trying to touch it. It doesn’t matter if it was a caring touch, deserted lands and grilling sun above the head eventually turns even the softest into the most isolated, isolated under the endless, clear sky, isolated with the vision extending to horizon but still so deeply rooted to the earth that it cant reach the place where the two distant lovers meet after the long excruciating journey through the fathoms of the sea and peaks of the mountains. To the place where they finally kiss, somethings are meant to be viewed from a distance, for if we come near the light of joy will enter through our open wounds and will hurt our darkness. I think we love our darkness, at least we can say its ours. It doesn’t belong to anybody else, only we have right over it in this departing world, we just cant let our fears depart, after all its all we have got.

Gardening is an experience which brings back the time when my son used to run across the garden destroying the grass. I never understood the value of the destroyed herbs and shrubs in my garden until it was gone and now I am sitting with a box of his sent letters, a relic found during my exploration of old stuff. He began writing me when he was pursuing his graduation, it was a sweet pain receiving his letter on every Sunday morning, it reminded of the time when he was in me, the same feeling, the same butterflies.

In the initial letters he just described each and every detail of his room, college, friends and teachers. The way things were happening and how they turned out to be different from before. How a different city and culture was changing him. He might come out of his home but his home will never come out of him. He told me instances when his native language turned out to be a complete disaster in front of his new friends but the greatest thing was, he was accepted as he was with his flaws which is a rare thing in this cruel world. He found out the right friends for himself or they had founded him. Aren’t we all want to be found by someone?

He also told me about his experience of love with a girl, how he wanted to take care of her. That night, my eyes forgot to blink. The thought of him loving someone else was just enough for me to have sleepless night. It was a mixed feeling, I wanted him to be happy, but I wanted him to be happy with me. I think it was just to be selfish in some matters especially the matter we have brought in this world. Luckily, it didn’t lasted long and he came to know that a mother’s love is purest. He don’t know the truth completely, I don’t want his illusions destroyed of me being a human also. The truth will be revealed  later on, I hope.

In the last letters he wrote, the content of the letters became short. He cut short all the meaningless things and wrote about the things which really mattered, our relationship. The fragrance of sweet things ready to be eaten by him, the walk on moist grass in the morning, The ringing of the same church bell from the time before his birth, he started missing the sounds he which once was annoyed him. The chirping of the birds suddenly became a hymen away from home, in the city of horns, singing of birds was a rare thing. The common things had become uncommon. I wish he was still with me, alive. The cactus in my garden standing along with the green and joyous plants reminds me of myself, its my personification. The truth that he nor his letters will come again never hurted me, these were the lies that I kept telling myself. May he rest in peace.



The Crooked Tooth

“I am on the way.” I screamed in a voice even I was unfamiliar with. The voice came from the darkest part of my soul, the part of me which I thought had gone but it was just sleeping inside of me, lurking for the time to come out, to show what had devastated me. Maybe that was the reason why I always helped the suffering souls, maybe I was curing myself, maybe the other was just me, maybe on the other side was just a mirror which reflected my former self. Suddenly the voice on the other end started cracking and with each crack with his voice goose bumps started dancing on my skin, mocking me that I was helpless even after knowing that he was in pain, a killing pain. “Last”, I just uttered it when a sudden jerk shocked me in the cab. The fear that the cracking of his voice could be the last thing I heard from him made me realise how cheap life is in this costly world, how precious were the moments when we used to laugh together, how beautiful his smile was, he was smiling in my mind and I was weeping in my body. The great food he used to cook but the irony of fate was that he now couldn’t taste a bit of it. His beautiful voice had turned into terrible scream, the scream which was tearing me apart. It was echoing inside of me and wanted to come outside of me. I didn’t had strong reasons like him to scream but still his pain was the reason of my scream. I screamed aloud but in a voice only I could listen.

The cab stopped and I came out of the moving cab rushing to his room in the gloomy place people call “hospital”. The room was filled with cry of the jolliest person I knew. I started hating my name when he called it with so much pain. The moment I felt as a dry leaf flying on the mercy of wind. The only thing I was able to do was shedding tears, I wanted to punch the wall, I wanted to slam my head, I wanted to kill myself. The person who had brought the light of joy on days I had lost myself was in a duel with his death and I was standing there letting him fight alone knowing that he will not return if he lost. I wasn’t brave enough to stand there and watch the cry turning into silence, I never had. The only place airy enough was balcony, I wanted jump but I didn’t but my own thoughts were choking.

The scream had turned into silence, a killing silence. I knew what had happened but had to check if it was reality or my mind was playing tricks on me. My shoes were heavy and were getting heavier with each step and so was my breath. Eyes had dried but open hands were wet. The door would had weigh a ton. But still it wasn’t heavier than my heart. The doctor had seen the fear on my pale face but something else was written on my sweaty palms on that day. The doctor’s smile said what was meant to be said, my cold feet began to warm again and my dry mouth became wet again. “He is fine and will wake up in some hours.” When these words got in my ears, I wasn’t there, I had already gone somewhere else, I wasn’t able to see or hear anything. I just sat in the corner of the happy room which was the saddest place a minute ago, I just wanted to see him for who he was but the swollen eyes wanted something else. The next thing I remember was his single crooked tooth when he smiled.


Going out of the home is a painful process every morning not for thyself but for my lovely home, I leave him for a whole day longing for me. Maybe I am just too hard on him, I don’t visit my own home so often, and maybe it’s not homely home now, maybe my loneliness has crept in and started rusting my place.

My work outside is pretty interesting, “Good morning” eveytime I stepped out Mrs. Olive is always ready to start my day with his melodious voice which is more of a song. She must be good-looking also, I assume. How can a person who has so heavenly voice be ugly? The person can’t be. But I have often heard some people talking about her burnt face. They must be blind to see her happy soul. She just makes my day cheerful, her greeting is enough to light up a spark in a dimming soul. But, I haven’t heard wishing anyone else in the streets. They must not be worthy of wishes, God has already made them worthy to look at things and people but they don’t have the ability to see which is rarer than a sapphire among people with eyes.

Walking forward and bumping over somebody is a usual thing but I am not the faulty one, I can’t look but they can. Although, I am the one who is to be burdened over their faulty vision.The girl I bumped upon almost pummelled my face with his slaps but she was too generous not to do so over my apologies, she just left me with some abuses. I know that girl, many things had gone in my ears about her. Many are after her, it just don’t even make sense to me. Sometimes, it feels bad for them.

There is an yin in every yang. This is my yin for I know people for their actions, their tone of voice not by their physical structure which is deceiving. God has blessed me with the gift of not getting deceived. But, it feels sometimes to know what beauty is seen as. One day, I will find it in myself maybe in someone else, but I will see it.

Coming back to my only companion at night is a bless but it has become a haunting experience now, he has a grudge with me for not been able to give him the proper time. It has been so silent that I can hear the walls calling me by my name. Screaming every time, I abandon him. He only has me after all others left. I understand that but he must understand that also. I will not be around always, he has to keep standing.

Going outside on a sunny day is a bless for me. It’s warm and I don’t have to worry about wetting my leg in a mudpool. People don’t rush onto me. I don’t feel itching in my eyes, they complain about not be able to look in the sky but its only one in the town able to look in the eyes of the sun, the only sungazer.

Everybody can look but not everyone can see.


Sitting alone can be a cruel thing to your mind. Sitting on the sandy beach and wondering about the depths of the ocean I realised that we are both alike. We both have many secrets in our depths which we had been hiding in our hearts for times even we are not aware of. On the surface we are calm and composed but who knows what happens inside. But we have an acceptance of things, an unearthly quality. We have accepted poisons from others which has devastated us to our core.

It has been a long time when I saw him for the first time but I still remember his smile when he was talking to his friends. I was sitting on bench next to him and was looking for excuses so that I can just a glimpse of what he was. Just his glimpse was what I needed and more I saw him, more I craved for him. It was the first time in my life that I had laid my eyes on someone so special, someone with whom I could imagine my entire life with. Being a straight A+ student, I had never lowered my eyes in front of anyone but his simple look at me just destroyed my ego which I had been collecting from a long time. I tried to talk on him on phone but my foul attitude kicked in and things didn’t turned out as planned. Later I talked to him but didn’t confessed anything to him. Every day, I thought of confessing him but fear of rejection was hunting me down daily. Each day would begin with a determination and end with guilt. When I got home from college and washed my face, I looked in mirror and motivated myself. Each day it was becoming difficult to look in the mirror.

Then, one fine day I approached him, he was talking to a friend. I said “I can do anything for you. but he said he wanted some time to think about that. That was the most restless day of my life. I wasn’t able to sleep that night. It was just me and my pillow. I was cuddling my pillow and something was in my stomach.  Next morning, I reached college and my eyes were searching for that one. That one, who could had changed my life. The one, with whom I could had been myself. The one, who would catch me in his arms when I would fall.

I just spilled my heart before him, I said, “I will always love you. Will you be mine?” but fate had decided something else. His heart was taken by someone else, the same friend he used to talk with. I just controlled myself, tears were on the brink of my eyes. On the way, it all lost and tears traced my way home. The hardest part was when I had to tell my parents about being well. I said, “I am fine and just tired.” For the first time in my life I didn’t shared with my mother what was killing me inside. That night, it was just me and my thoughts, it wasn’t sure who was controlling whom. The whole scenario was running on repeat mode before me even with my eyes open. Next morning, I came out of room as if nothing had happened. I couldn’t tell people I had been weak, I never had. I thought I would just ignore him but he had refused politely and considered me as friend of him. I just couldn’t. Some things are out of our control or maybe we came out of control. I wanted to shout on him, I wanted to slap him, I wanted to hug him, I wanted him to be mine. But, I also wanted him to be happy and his happiness was with another soul. I just smiled and hid the sea of tears in my eyes but still my eyes betrayed me and a drop oozed out when I was looking down. Luckily or unluckily, he wasn’t seeing. Days went by and I was surviving seeing his smile, his face, he as a whole. He was happy with her but not me. I wanted to focus on myself but focus always shifted towards them, capturing them. I still texted him but as a friend, it took more courage that would had required to pull meal from a lion’s mouth. I texted him, at least I was talking to him.

Something crazy happened, he had a breakup and a very devastating breakup. I was sorry for him but happy for myself. He was the talk of whole department for a couple of months, a ray of hope was piercing the darkness inside me. I decided to increase the frequency of texts and he too returned the same. I told him indirectly that I belonged to him only but he indicated always that he was just a friend. He had rejected me without even looking in my eyes, there was just love for him in my eyes. Even though he had only gave me tears and sleepless nights but still I accepted those as my gifts. It wasn’t fair to believe that all girls are same but it’s just fine afterall. He wasn’ t the one falling, I was. The mistake was mine not his.  Continue reading “IN THE DEPTHS OF OCEAN”

The Last Piece Of Cake on Christmas Eve

I just slammed the door on that cold evening and rushed towards the kitchen and threw all the groceries, lost in my own thoughts and rushing through the furniture in the way to drawing room I made a call which I thought I would never ever make in my life again and hoping that the person wouldn’t receive it yet longing to hear his so familiar and melodious voice. The phone rang, he hadn’t changed his number, the phone was ringing and so was my heart, with each ring panic was engulfing me and my head was ready to burst of thoughts, old memories of happy and sorrow days. It seemed that my whole past was dancing and mocking me for my foolish deeds. If I hadn’t let my ego came in the way, things could have been much sweeter. But, it was not my fault alone, things could had been treated well from opposite side also. In amidst of all this all , a trembling voice said “Hello!” and with great effort I said, “It has been a long time, Will you come tonight on dinner?” ,an awkward silence came between us and then a single word came from him, Yes!”. The phone hanged up but still the single word was ringing in my ears and I began doing the chores for dinner. I started preparing his favourite dishes, he had a unique  and sharp sense of taste which could detect a little abnormality which had turned me into a over cautious cook.

The Christmas tree was decorated and everything was in its place yet I was rushing in the house for complete perfection. The doorbell rang and my eyes became wide but I but ran towards the door as I wanted to see if my brother looked the same as before. I opened the door and found the same boy with those messy hairs and dirty shoes. I wanted to cry and hug him but I didn’t wanted to get soft on him, I wanted to be the same hard big brother which I had always been and I just shook hand and let him in and closed the door gently. He had already made his way to the dining table.

We talked formally over the table about work and other things but at last everything was overpowered by emotions when he asked, “Why you did all of that? and I just lost myself and in tears cried, I had been mean and rude all of this time but I wanted you badly in these lonely times. After our fight, you left and I was alone with father but when he died I was alone in my life, each day began with the wet pillow and ended with the sour eyes. I wanted to talk to you but I thought you wouldn’t even pick up the phone but after so much time I gathered enough courage to invite you in your own house for Christmas dinner. You showed up as my Christmas gift.”He was smiling with tears in his eyes ready to drop down. Then the big brother scolded the small one by saying, “You could have called also.”He said, “I could have come by myself but if I had done so, how could have I been able to see you in this form?”

The dark clouds over the dining table turned into the shining rays on the cold Christmas eve. We laughed on silly jokes like the good old days and enjoyed the dinner with some good old wine. It was like a fairy tale for me straight from a book. There had been many such dinner in the past in father’s time but it was just ordinary at that time but this time it was something else. Only time has the power to show you the beauty of simple things, the value of your loved ones and the ones who stays in our heart even after descending to other world.

At last, we both ate the cake with last piece of cake left. I wanted that but I wanted my brother more. So, I offered him the last piece with a drop of my tear shining atop the cake.

Life is too short to be spend fighting with your loved ones.