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.

The White Caterpillar and Black Rose

“You are beautiful” said the caterpillar to the mesmerizing black beauty. The beauty blushed and in her feminine voice replied, “You too are beautiful and it’s just a matter of time, each of us take our time to bloom.” He had a question mark on his face regarding himself and thus asked her if one day he would also be like her. She giggled and told him, “You won’t be Black like me, you would be bright like sunshine.”


Listening to this, he in his innocence, asked her if she was sorry for her colour but she just smiled and admired his heart by saying, “If it would be all white, it would had blinded you. Black and White are not opposite, deep down they had grown from the same roots.”

He started circling around her, searching something, but it was of no use. He was searching for her feet. On asking she explained him, “I don’t need to wander for anything in this world, every necessity was provided to me and in time I had realised that everything was within me.”

“What you do when in joy when you can’t even move…….?”

“I just dance in the moving wind with all my petals just feeling the beauty of this moving nature. I just enjoy as if no one is watching. I sing a song too but only for those who can listen.” He seemed satisfied.


“I always crawl. Will a day come when I will start walking?” he asked in a deep voice. “You weren’t born to walk. You were born to fly like your mother who tasted my sweet nectar once when you weren’t in this meadow” she guided him touching his head gently with her soft petal.

“What was my mother alike?” the curiosity of knowing his creator was visible in his eyes. “She was stunning as you would be in some time. When she flew towards sky, it seemed that she was going to heaven away from all earthly boundations where no one would try to catch her. Humans just ruin things for freezing a moment. Real Beauty lies in the flow. Moments are not meant to be captured but lived.”butterfly

He enquired if there was something he could eat but the only sweet thing there was just her. He was hungry and wanted the taste of black petals but the guardian thorns were at the service of the fragrancing queen. But all life of her was spent in service of others, her life was but a fine smell for others which filled every life with joy. Thus, she gave herself to the hungry creature and her death became a feast for the hungry stomach.


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