Category: Her Story

Angst

It’s difficult to understand everything, it’s like reading in shadows, fleeting light from the creeks of windows and doors. Life has become interminably incomprehensible, dried and cracked. There are spaces enough to get in and probe yet so hardened that I perish the thought of what’s beyond those cracks.

I have no patience nor energy left to fight and grapple with people, and the world around me. I’m just letting it be- everything. I want to be left alone in peace and not be bothered about.

May be it’s me who is a difficult person or may be not. Whatever may be the case. I still would prefer to be left at it and not be badgered about that. Sometimes, leaving one in peace is enough to settle down the nerves.

Conversations I

It’s therapeutic, they say when you pen down what ails you. Why, then I’m lost in this maze of words  every time I write my thoughts out. It’s not that simple to come out of this cesspool of human emotions.

There is so much welling up inside, but there is no vent for it. People who profess they understand, doesn’t even know what it is to understand someone. They like the idea of you, they admire the-social-you-the-outer-you. nobody even bothers to feel you, listen to the words you haven’t spoken but had them on your lips. Nobody reads between the lines, in between the glances you give sideways.

And, then comes day when I’m so done with looking around, I’m tired of expecting and resort to only one person who has always known me the way I am – Me, Myself.

Oh, the girl within me has kept all my secrets tucked in a beautiful vintage looking trunk,  and from time to time, she dusts it and open the leaves and reminds me the beautiful moments of my life, the pain and hurt I had endured, the decisions that made me what I am today.

This girl, who lives within me, she sits by me during sunset and we both look at the setting hues of sun with awe.

Is she enough for me? She knows me, she is one with me, she is me, but is she enough?

Know me, yet?

I don’t like to be figured out. What’s the point then. I’ll be like any other woman walking down the street.

I’m not mundane. I’m not what you will ever be able to define.

And, I’m definitely not you will be able to hold.

I’m a torrent of wave that would sweep you off the shore and reshape your world.

The Match

And, the story would be – there was one, a walking disaster, ruins of love, poignant tale of passion spent, and she had him, an equally matched ferocity of chaos that whirls in her whole being. Together, they became an all consuming desire- annihilating one another in the smouldering fire of love.

Nameless Desires

My heart wanders on nameless streets knocking at nameless doors for no reasons at all…

May be, somewhere a door will open and let me in. Would there be a place where my heart will feel like home once again…

For once, I wish to close my eyes and relax.

Put my mind to rest.

Those nameless desires.