The Chase

Chasing a dream. That’s what you’ve been doing, chasing a single dream. From the moment you wake up to the moment night falls, all you do is run amok with that imaginary backpack slung on your back and that imaginary net of yours clutched tightly in your hand. The one that you intend to cast upon your dream.

Countless of times you’ve reached it, only to be thrown back by an invisible force. You move with a fierce determination, this time. Dead set on capturing it. You can see it ahead, the dream. It’s moving further away from you at an incredible speed. But, nothing’s going to deter you, not this time. You’re invincible! There’s this raging storm inside you, the one that’ll take on anything that obstructs your path, that’ll defeat anyone who stands between you and your dream.

The chase gets all the more interesting, all the more intense. It’s only you and the dream, now. The dream, which is drifting farther and farther away with every passing moment. You run with all your might, gradually catching up to it. You’re there, almost there. You hold up your net, ready to cast it and there she is! Standing there, waiting for you, her arms wide open. That oh-so-heavenly smile pasted on her face, with the glow quite evident. Her aura radiating warmth and joy.

Glory, they call her. She welcomed everyone with open arms. Everyone being the ones who were successful in bagging their dream after capturing it, that is.  That’s it! That’s all you needed to see! With one last jump in the air, you capture it. You’ve done it! The dream is in your net, struggling to get out, away from you but, you’re taking none of it. Without further ado, you gently catch hold of it and enclose it in your box of dreams. Yes, you’ve  finally done it. You’ve bagged your dream, you’ve bagged freedom!

You look and find Glory beaming proudly at you. She beckons to you. As you step forward to walk into her open arms, a shrill sound fills your ears. You try to drown it but, to no avail. To reality has come the worst of your fears. You shake your head to clear the daze and slam the damned alarm clock down on the dresser. The dream, was just that, a dream. It was too good to be true.

Once again, you climb out of your bed in pursuit of your dream, in your pursuit of happiness but, above all, in your pursuit of freedom. You believe you’ll chase it one fine day and you believed you’ll be able to embrace Glory.


The familiar stranger…

Tangled thoughts,
Jumbled emotions.
Irrational mind,
Confused notions.

Clear answers,
To hazy questions.
A solved mystery,
With an unknown history.

I know it’s end,
But, where did it start?
Functional wheels,
On a broken cart.

Blurred memories,
Grainy photographs.
Some dried roses,
A hand-woven scarf.

Oh familiar stranger,
Who are you?
Your voice, a broken melody,
It sounds so blue.

Are you for real,
Or perhaps, my crazy imagination?
It’s difficult to tell an illusion,
From a hallucination.

Foreign feelings,
With a tinge of familiarity.
A hazy past,
With an indescribable clarity.

Tell me, oh familiar stranger,
Who are you?
Another one of those lies,
Or perhaps, you’re true?

The harsh reality,
Like a splash of ice-cold water.
Broken chain of thoughts,
A serious mind-boggler.

Lost in my forest of insane thoughts,
Haunted by a ghost called memory.
Rescue me from these cruel knots,
Or at least, whatever that’s left of me.

The familiar stranger,
Was in fact, a monster called love.
It took me to great heights,
And, dropped me from above.

Imaginary Basket Of Stories…

Hanging from every branch,
Is an imaginary basket of stories.

The story of a fallen leaf,
The story of a withered flower.
The story of tears that were shed beneath it,
And, the story of some lost power.

The story of a bird’s nest,
And, the story of the lives to sprout from it.
The story of worst turned to best,
And, the story of wonders created from scratch.

The story of talents wasted,
The story of broken dreams.
The story of success tasted,
The story of some goals achieved.

It has battled harsh clouds and stormy winds,
This tree.
Worn and battered,
It stands tall, high and free!

On it’s branches are hanging,
Stories of broken twigs,
And, stories of wounded wings.
Stories of flights went wrong,
And, stories of soldiers strong.

Over the years,
The stories have multiplied.
Through stormy weathers,
The tree has survived.

Come summer,
The blossoming flowers will bring back it’s beauty.
Along with them,
Will arrive another batch of weaved stories.

About A Girl

“I stood there smiling at him. Tears were flowing endlessly but, he couldn’t see them. You see, with the first tear that I shed, it started raining. Covering all those tears, making him believe, I didn’t care. And, I guess, that’s how I wanted it to be, I didn’t want him to see my suffering, didn’t want him to know that I cared. No, I just wanted him to move on. “Why?” you ask? We couldn’t be together and, with every minute that I stood there, getting drenched in the rain, I had a minute less to live. As soon as he was out of sight, I could take no more. I fell down on my knees and cried, cried until, all my tears dried. I looked up at the darkening sky, with tears in my eyes, I asked a silent question, “Why?” And, I heard a faint reply over the winds, it said, “You’re needed, that’s why.” The last thing I remember were the spinning surroundings, as I cried out loud, “Not now! Oh God, not now, please!”
The next morning, I woke up to the thundering. The rain still pouring. I smiled, finding peace in knowing that even those up there were crying. I was in that oh-so-familiar hospital room when I heard the doctor say to my mother, “I’m sorry, she hasn’t got much time left.” So, I pumped my fist in the air and let out a fake whoop, shouting, “So Cancer, you’ve finally won, eh?”

This was the last entry in her diary. It was left under the hospital bed, I currently lay on. It dated 21st January 2012, “Not too long.” I thought to myself. My nurse came to check up on me and when she got done and was ready to leave, I asked her, “Do you know what happened to the girl who was here, in this room, a week back?” She looked at me and gasped. “How, oh-h-ow d-do you know about her, son?” she stammered. I held up the diary and shrugged. She let out a sad sigh as a tear escaped her eye. I wondered what was it about this girl, what was so fascinating but, the nurse finally spoke, pulling me out of my thoughts, she said, “She wasn’t any ordinary girl, she was a very special child, just like an angel. I’d known her all her life, the most beautiful and calm girl I’d ever met.” she had a spaced out look on her face, as if she was picturing her very features. With a sad smile, she turned to me and conyinued, “I guess, that is the reason God took her back to him. Son, she passed away on the 23rd.”

I held the diary tight to my chest and looked at her with a longing, she siged again and nodded, indicating that I could keep the diary. I gave her a small smile before she left. I was flipping through the pages of the diary, when something fell from it. On the back was written ‘Qayra Kanush Kashyap’ in the neatest handwriting. I turned it and gasped, it was a picture of the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid my eyes on. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and fall on the photograph, that was when I realised I’d been crying this whole while. Something was similar about her features, almost as if I’d seen her somewhere but, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

I had cancer too and for the first time, I wished, I desperately wished that it would kill me, it would take me away and send that angel back on earth. If I could exchange my life for her’s, I’d do so willingly. It was only wistful thinking. With this thought in mind, I clutched the diary and the photograph to my chest and fell asleep.

Next morning, I woke up with a smile on my face, only to notice that the photograph was nowhere to be seen. I looked to my left and there, on the table lay a long stemmed white rose with a note that read, “Thank you!” And, just as incredibly as the photograph had appeared, it disappeared too. That was when the realisation hit me. I was in love with a girl who now, lived worlds apart from me. She truly was an angel in disguise.

With the realisation still weighing heavy on my conscience, I stood up from the cot and walked over to the open window. I was lost in my own tangled thoughts when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see my doctor standing there. I was stunned. She was the grown-up version of Qayra and now, everything seemed to fit in place.

She was Qayra’s mother. I shook my head and questioned her, her sad sigh and nod were enough to prove my instincts. There was a pregnant silence hanging in the air and after a while, she spoke, “The nurse told me,” she hesitated so, I nodded for her to continue, “Qayra was special, she was gifted though, some might prefer saying cursed. She used to have premonitions through her dreams, more often than not, they turned out to be true.” again she looked up at me as if asking whether she should continue, with a nod I indicated that she could. “She knew about you. You’ll be perfectly fine. She’d told me so.” with that said, she left.

It’s been 3 months now and, just as Qayra predicted, my cancer was fully cured. The irony of it all was that I was in love with her and I hadn’t ever really met her. Her usual appearances in my dreams were the only things I looked forward to these days.

Winds of Time.

The winds of time,
Shatter your dreams.
No more are they,
A reason to live.
Life seems worthless,
For, your existence doesn’t matter.
One moment you’re flying ,
High up in the air,
The next you bite the dust,  
Of realities unexplained. 
You travel lanes of memories,
with tears in your eyes. 
Looking at how high you flew,
And, what wind knocked you out.
You search the prospering memories,
And, those of agonizing pain. 
Until, you stand in the land
of your lover’s main. 
Only then you feel your heart bleed, 
To the sight of your love.
For, he is the one, 
That dug the dagger deep, 
In the heart,
that had love for him. 
Now you Wait, 
For, soon you shall succumb
to your fate.
And, now you know,  
The tryst of your destiny
And, your love in vain,
‘Cause for someone else, 
It was all,
Just a Game.

This is a collaboration between me and @TheGhostWriterr. If there’s anyone who should be praised for this beauty, it should be him. 😀

It’s time….

A fleeting glance,
A passing memory,
All of it comes
running back to me.

The dull ache,
The dark resent,
Makes me come
crashing back to reality.

The longing gaze,
The warmth in his eyes,
Makes it difficult to tell
 the truth from those lies.

The moment of truth,
Flashbacks from the past,
Unfolding before me
are memories that’ll last.

The game of love,
Some futile attempts,
This treacherous heart
blames me for contempt.

Tears flow on their own accord,
For, unbearable is the pain that it brings,
Like iron to magnets,
to my past I still cling.

As the reality kicks in,
I close my eyes,
With a content smile on his face,
there he lies.

Wiping the tears,
I stand up,
It’s time to move on,
it’s time to give up.

The surreal dream

Standing atop the desert cliff,
past sand dunes,
I see the oasis.
Coyotes howling in the night,
The moon scintilating and bright.
Chilly night air nips at my skin,
The whirling of winds,
a sound too keen.
The deafening silence,
Broken by the drop of a pin.
Hooting of an owl in the far distance,
The heavenly light,
my only assistance.
Galloping of a horse greets my ears,
The sight before me,
gets me to tears.
Nested on the horse is the love of my life,
His striking features,
as sharp as a knife.
There under the moonlight,
we make love,
Satiated and spent,
I close my eyes.
When I open them again,
I realise,
It was the same dream
I have every night.

The story of life

Tossed and churned,
Scarred and burnt.
Standing still,
Been through all those turns.
Memories unpleasant,
nostalgia brings in.
Dwelling in those,
pain creeps in.
The pain unbearable,
Flashes from the past.
Weakens your knees,
Gloomy shadows it casts.
Shattered dreams,
Broken resolve.
Filled up to the brim,
The memory box.
Trinklets and roses,
Beads and charms.
The open door closes,
As a tear drops on your palm.
Letters and cards,
Hateful and loved.
Sorry’s and Thank you’s
Overflowing with love.
Heaps of memories,
Loads of pain.
Bricks of happiness,
Bits of disdain.
The story of life,
A little love,
little hate.
Good times and bad,
Nothing outweighed.

“Love is eternal”

The bright sun and the clear skies,
So in contrast with his mood.
As the tears continued to flow through his eyes,
The weather, it changed for his good.
“Ah, I’ve got company, it seems.” thought he,
As the darkness took over the sky.
“After all, unheard weren’t my screams of pain and agony.”
As the gloomy clouds pelted rains from those heavens high.
The chirping of birds stopped,
And instead, the rumbling thunder, took it’s place.
“Are the heavens crying, too?”
He asked, as more tears rolled down his face.
He was drowning in his moroseness,
While happy memories continued to haunt him.
Finally, he stood up, a deep wistful longing residing within,
He walked to the funeral, eyes red-rimmed.
The pain numbed his feelings,
While he shunned every emotion.
‘Twas the answer to all his unasked questions, that coffin.
The lower it sunk in the ground,
The harder he fell.
His love, for her was now, forever bound.
As she lay there in an eternally dreamless sleep, he closed his eyes,
Searching for euphoria, that was never found.
“Love is eternal.” read her headstone.
“Rest in peace,” he murmered,
While he walked away to find some peace of his own.