Emotions Unleashed

  There seems to be a connection between rains and funerals. In every book, movie, or series the funeral scene is always accompanied by rain. Is it just for dramatic effect or do the two share a deeper bond?  Everytime a soul dies, heaven cries. For some people rain brings about gloom, they feel lethargic and everything appears bleak. The sun ceases to shine, the stars stop twinkling, the birds no longer sing and pathways get flooded. Everything stops making sense, plants that can’t live without water, bend and break under its pressure. Everywhere they step, they are afraid of waters of unknown depths. Everyone opens umbrellas in fear of getting wet.  Everytime a soul dies, heaven cries. For some people rain signifies new beginnings, they feel grateful and look at everything with a new perspective. The sun and the stars take a break, birds return to their nests and the water streams create new paths for themselves. Everything appears different, plants soak up water like j...

  The sky outside looked like the palette of an artist experimenting with shades of blue and grey with the occasional strokes of bright orange hinting at the sunset. Inside the class, in front of me was the pastel green board embellished with the vibrant assortment of coloured chalks. A line here, a formula there, a diagram there. The room was littered with benches of the most dusty and dappled shade of brown, probably because of the numerous children doing calculations and having conversations on the tabletop in pencil to later erase away. The floor, a washed-out grey, had deformations in it, from the bottles that were dropped on the floor, from the scuff marks off the shoes of the students. The walls were painted with mellow colours, all complementing each other, giving out a feeling of peace and calm. And here they came, just about in time to ruin that peace and calm. They were wearing the most showy colours that just put too much strain on your eyes. Carrying bags matching thei...

  First cut is the deepest  Sharpener blade in hand, empty bathroom stall. The first cut, to forget seeing what I saw. To forget the feeling of hurt and treachery. The second cut, for punishing myself. For punishing myself to never have learned from my mistakes. My mistakes, which I keep making again and again and again. The third cut, for never having the guts to pull out of the vicious circle. The vicious circle, I had every bit of contribution in the creation of. The fourth cut, stemmed from self-deprivation. Deprivation, because I don’t deserve to be happy.  The fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth cuts, because it felt good to feel. To feel anything, even if pain. The ninth and tenth, to see the fresh stream of blood. Blood, the color which represents love, and most conveniently, pain . Your death isn’t something that happens to you. It’s something that happens to those around you, to those who care about you.  For you it’s an impulsive decision, over in a second. ...

  LOVE, LIES, LOSS CHAPTER 1 I was highly sedated. I had been on prescribed drugs the whole week. I was camping out on my bed, under my covers, making occasional trips to the bathroom. I was either  completely unaware of my surroundings or aware of every little movement each and every fibre in my body made.  I looked up at the mess which was my room. The curtains were completely drawn, giving the room an eerie atmosphere. The sheets on my bed were all over the place, and I had made for myself a cocoon of blankets and pillows. Nearby, the bedside table was so crowded with assortments of food, I had to join another table to prevent all of it from falling. I reached to get my water, it was so far into the mountain of food piled, I ended up knocking the glass down, and all the water spilled out. Now there were two puddles of water that i had to clean, one here and the other one in the dining room.  I got up to fill my glass and make another trip to the bathroom, giving u...

THE ONLY WAY I KNOW I'M ALIVE IS CAUSE IT HURTS All I see is darkness, the kind you have at the pit of the ocean. All I smell is salt, the saltiness that reminds me of the sea. All I hear is darkness, maybe an occasional wave, but all dead silence. All I taste is water, not the kind you drink, but the kind you surf in. All I feel around me is darkness, something touching my skin but simultaneously, not. And all my sixth sense can tell me is that,                                                                   the only way you know you're alive is cause it hurts. There is this emptiness surrounded by broken promises, where my heart used ...

CROSSROADS I'm at crossroads. I can see it. I can see the light at the end of the path where I want to reach. I can also see the path to it, it is filled with obstacles, but it's all visible.  There's another path my mind wants me to see, the curved one, I can only hope it would lead me to the same light. I know I should just close my eyes and head out for the one ahead of me.  But then I glance at the other one, I can see those things which I would have to otherwise sacrifice if I decide to continue on the other path.  Those glimmering opportunities called me to it, pulling me to that path.  I take a step towards it. But there's one thing nagging my mind, “ The light which is your destination place, where does it glow ablaze ?” I take a step back. Straight ahead, above all the obstacles and sacrifices, I see the light.  Light the brightness of a thousand fireflies. The other path, I realize glimmers with the slightest of ...

ONCE AGAIN I had written this piece for a competition I was planning to enter, however, I doubt my entry ever got sent. we were to use The trees swayed in the wind and a flash of lightning lit up the entire forest. Suddenly, in a pool of light a strange creature with silver wings emerged. “Please .. help…me…. these lines somewhere in the story. I decided to take up an earlier idea of mine and develop it into this. For some reason it always manages to make me emotional, now that could just be because I had written it a time of vulnerability. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ‘He saw right through me. He saw right through my facade. He saw right through this wall I have built.’ It is always so peaceful up here. Here, on this rather comfortable bench, we sit every night. This balcony gives the best view of the garden, you can see all the colorful bushes and beautifully carved h...