“Humanity, love for a fellow human being, is it some sort of a bargain we have to dish out every time we meet or converse with an another. Does it come out naturally to us or is it forced upon, like the innumerable veils we garb ourselves with. Couldn’t we just enforce a default and forget paying back the goodwill which others generously spend on us. Why can’t we treat it as an economic good, scare and non-renewable, using it only when we generate profit from it. Isn’t manipulation a quality? Why is it seen as a crime? Why do people see me as a misfit when they do what I do but only implicitly? It’s a strange world out there.”
The invisible thoughts flew around one after the other as I finally kept the nib up and rounded the diary back to the shelf. I had bigger things to focus upon, bigger for the moment I was in. It would be my 5th robbery today and the art seemed to flow naturally for me. Despite being only twenty, I already had a high reputation in my circle to live up to. Coming to repute, let me make one thing clear, I am no robin hood, which I think you have already figured. I have no remorse at what I do, nothing whatsoever. Though I do keep my count, the number of things I messed up during previous heists, the ones I should avoid this time. I keep looking for that perfect score, the invisible stature where I would walk in and walk out, unknown, untouched, like I was never there. But anyways that’s the dream.
Tonight, I had circled on the house at the corner, the one with the beautiful garden. Something I haven’t told you yet, I had wanted to become a florist when I was a little kid before I was pushed into our family business. It wasn’t exactly a push, it came naturally to me, may be that’s the reason I started early. Please don’t mind these thoughts; they keep flying by. Coming to the house I was talking about. It had been locked for over a couple of weeks. I inquired around, they all seem to say that it would take another week for the family to get back. That night as I lay inside on the sofa, watching my favourite serial “FRIENDS” on my iPad, I heard a chatter from outside.
“Dad, please open the door. I can’t hold it anymore.”
“Darling, be a good girl. Dad is trying to find the keys.” Tara replied.
“Ah, there it is!”
Ryan opened the door as Arya pushed her father and stormed inside.
“Careful, the lights…” Ryan stopped in between as his eyes lay upon the lighted iPad in the dark living room. There were series of laughters that were coming out from it.
Ryan went for the lights while Tara went to take a look at the puzzled activity on the sofa. The lights came on while I stood behind Tara with my knife on her throat. Ryan stood startled as Arya rushed and clutched onto her father’s leg in shock.
“Don’t come close!” I shouted.
“Leave her right now. Take whatever you want, but leave her.” Ryan shouted back.
“If I say I also want her then?”
“Joey doesn’t share food” the iPad roared.
“You fucked up shit. How dare you!” Ryan charged ahead.
“Stay where you are Mr. Ryan. Am I not in the position of strength?” As I kept the knife even more closer, drawing the first blood. Tara screamed in pain, her eyes were tensed but she didn’t mumble a single word.
“Please. Leave her! I am sorry, leave her.”
“You sound genuine! So little girl what should I do now?” Ryan kept moving his daughter behind himself. She was inconsolable, crying loudly in a shrieking voice.
“Ask her to shut up. I hate kids when they cry.”
“Please leave her. Take whatever you want, please.”
“Okay. I see you have a point.” Smiling at the irony as the song plays out from the tab, “I will be there for you…”
I took the bag from his hands, and moved towards his car still holding the knife on his wife. I asked her to sit beside quietly. She kept quiet, who wouldn’t when you have a knife on your throat. Ryan was pleading to leave her alone, but I wasn’t yet sure of their loyalty. I heard none of what they said, and whistled past the place with the bag and Tara. Ryan did run behind the vehicle but I think the vehicle was faster, indeed it should be, horse power you see.
It was only in the morning, Tara returned home. She wasn’t her normal self anymore. Though her clothes were untouched and she carried no injury, her eyes screamed in pain, as if something broke within her and wouldn’t possibly glue forever. “Only if they hadn’t returned home that night, things might have been much different, only if”, she thought.
“I usually heed to those who question why we celebrate a particular day for love; isn’t every day, one for love? I silence myself with a makeshift happy nod while trying hard to keep that itsy bitsy part of me that still believes in this day from exploding all over the other. But today when I look back at all those questions, and my stand of supporting the naysayers, my silence sounds completely illogical to me. The hard truth that we happen to realise a little late is that not every day we give for love, I mean in literal sense; just try to question how often do we go out of our way and compliment someone or how often do we utter the words, “I love you” to that special one, even though we know that the other might be the perfect one for us. It just doesn’t happen; it stays in our mind for an eternity before vaporising in the mystery of our confused mind. So sometimes all we need is a day, however cliched it might sound, we need it to ease the unease and give a push to one’s hopes only to see where the thoughts in our mind finally lead us upon to. So in this world of unlimited technology decorated with artificial emoticons, I meant the emotions, it’s okay to take a day off and be with your loved ones to make them feel special in the best possible way. It could be with that friend you fell in love with years ago but still are too scared to say, or it could be your parents who haven’t seen you since ages because you are too busy making excuses, or it could be as simple as a compliment to a random stranger who you find amusing while your lonely walk back home. It could be with anybody, it could be anywhere, but make sure you convey your emotion, your care, this day. Because the other thing about cliched things are that everyone knows about them, making things a lot easier for us to convey. So go take your chances, and make this valentines worth remembering.”
All the very best 🙂
“There would be life within the fall.” Those moments when we languish among the dirt, we come to know what survival is really about. It’s like climbing a mountain every single day only to end up falling from the very cliff which separates a winner and a loser. But the addiction with survival is so fatal that with every dawn we make an attempt again. The pain, however, gets excruciating with every fall, and with every passing day we lose our devouring confidence of making it ever. But a ray of hope is like the tinsel town in a dead city which lights up at every bit of goodwill thrown at it. So with scars all over the body and the moment of giving up not very far, we make a final attempt.
The eyes get shrouded with mystery as the dazzle of fear from a loss slowly wanes away from the fingers, and the moment arrives when the leap is finally made, and a new winner emerges from it. The paradise that we had awaited for time and again had finally fallen to our will, and our footsteps behold the change the world would now bear upon. We get a wish in return to clear the scars on the quest for greatness, that we respectfully ignore “Those scars define me, they make me who I am. They remind me of hope, and hope is eternal.” We march ahead with this memory in mind and with a hope to rise with every fall we encounter in our life.
“No pit is ever so big that we could never escape; there is always a way, there will always be.” We thump our heart, and take a leap again.
“There comes a time
Of whirlwind, a time
We find our answers
Amid the chaos, amid
The shine of the sun
And the glitter of the moon;
We just know the right words
To say, the right words to hear,
We doubt less and love more,
We be what we are designed to be,
But as we know that we live
In the era of dialectics,
There comes a standstill
After the whirlwind, the answers
Seem to be hard hidden
Despite the dig; despite the search
We find words hard to say
And love more elusive to seek,
Making us break the designed state
To wander without curiosity
With only hope to meet the turbulent sea
With in the desert we find ourselves to be.”
There seems a lot to tinker,
There seems a lot to aspire,
But they all seem a little less
When it’s the time to inspire.
You think inspiring is about words,
Like narrating a scene set in a picturesque town,
But I ought to differ, I differ like the many before,
I differ to be different yet true.
I differ because I believe it’s the emotion
That sets the ball rolling,
That sets the belief in others
To be different, to be special.
That’s what inspiring is to me,
That’s what I see and try to see
In things small or big, kind or rude,
The very ones which leave me unmoved.
It’s there in the winter wind, it’s there among the sunshine,
It’s in the eye of your newborn, it’s in the eye of your enemy,
I beg to differ and would stand my ground
For you to realise that it’s the emotion which we need to embrace.
True to the place where I started, True to the time which I felt less,
I stand now with many emotions around,
Waiting to inspire many who saw the other way,
I think it’s time to set the ball rolling, I think it’s time to feel alive again.
“Achieving a high on flattery
of the misconceived & of the mistaken,
we drown ourselves into an untrue pride,
pride to remain aloof of the reality ahead.
The castle in air gets rattled
with every blow of wind, with every sense of truth,
bricks pull themselves out with disbelief
only to be forced to get back with an assurance
of a veil of ignorance to follow.
A point is reached in the continuum
of real and unreal, the narcissistic castle
of our greed breaks open with the agony of the only truth,
Shattering our world, faltering us into a depth
of unknown, only to realize abyss as the only reality.”