Tag Archives: sorrow

The beginning of our fall

“I am scared Ryan! What if..” “You must relax Tara. All will be well. We are almost there at the hospital. Try holding on for a while.”

She had asked me stay back home, she knew that she wasn’t alright. It was her last trimester and I should have been there next to her but I wasn’t. I had these dreams of building a perfect future for our kid, a world which we couldn’t receive. I never realised how carried away I would become. I never did, even then.

We luckily reached on time, and all went well. Our daughter Arya was born. She had her mothers eyes, those curious little ones which followed me wherever I went.

But now when I reminiscence the day, I could clearly sense that something broke between me and Tara. She didn’t actually confront me but I could see it in her eyes. I had let her down, and it became the beginning of our fall.

#EpisodesOfLove  #Tara&Ryan

Every other day

They call me many names
They scold me like I am a slave
But they never knew, they never will
That deep inside they kill me every day.

Every other day I gather the pieces
To rise & shine like the sun,
But it’s only the moon which shines
Over the tears that begin with the night.

Shattered & broken that’s what I am
But I am not the one to fall, not the one to give up;
As I see the sun rise again through the window,
I start searching for the pieces to join again.


#RespectingWomen

#AgainstBullying

One from the old

The broken flames of yesteryear
speak in disguise for the world ahead,
there eyes tend to speak a million things
but all we see is a smile instead.

Their melancholy of separation
that aggrieves from their tears that fall,
melts away the walls that they had stood
their life guarding for, their very love they were hiding from.

As they break free from the chains of past,
the relations of old, they find one from the olden to keep;
burning with flare they show the world their light
glowing from their rekindled love,
the one they treasured for long, but igniting it only now.

Pic Source:Andre Kohn (www.andrekohn.com)

Sorrow of the Wind.

I seem to see the never ending emotion,

unfulfilled and unmoved;

Through eyes of the wind,

I find myself in shallow of a room

painted with despair

and with a lady sitting at its bay.

 

Bidding a final goodbye

the mistress takes a fall,

hoping to find herself never alive,

to unsee her lover smitten

with fury of death

and with agony of separation.

 

The King unmoved and unfulfilled,

moved the tray of doom

into the sight of public,

who began to fear the rage

let loose upon them ,

trying to turn the eye away.

 

The honor and prestige

has been restored,

but at a cost so dear

that no man can justify

and move with the same honor

which he nudges others to carry.

 

Passing through the empty lanes

as the night shines bright

and the blood all dry,

I secretly whisper

to the souls to re-unite

and set the emotions all right.

The Concept of Love.

Cliched topic like Love can have so many creative definitions that we might not find it cliched any more. So what can love be defined as? Is it a feeling? Is it happiness? Is it visible?

Love is something which can only be understood when we feel it, swirl in the loop created by it and smile even when we drown with it. It can be found from the most unpleasant states, lets say pain of leaving or suffering of disrupted relation or plain simple sorrow. A never ending ocean with the waves flashing on the shore creating those ripples within, the joy of coming close and moving away cannot be explained better than this. Never so close and Never so far has been the philosophy which tends to get molded with time with minor adjustments as there is no one is perfect for one another, its just that we overlook a few and embrace the other. Overlooking doesn’t mean being unaware, but accepting the flaws too.

Quenching of heart when the drowning begins, signifying the end of beautiful story, is only a major tectonic movement which makes room for another, similar to a volcanic eruption. The more the time volcano remains inactive, more painful it gets to end, as the blisters end up flaring high on the sky. It doesn’t mean that every story has to end, because there are stories which are perpetual and continue till the life goes on. Like a peaceful ocean, where the ripples are hardly felt or are automatically adjusted.

Thereby I would say, Love, which is eternal, is like an ocean – Infinite and Calm. So loosen your sails and march towards the high winds, Captain.