The Darkest Days, pun intended.

For most of you, who are wondering how do I do this; writing was conceived by me during one of these dark days in my life. You must be thinking about your days of despair. Now what’s the fuss all about? The downs have always been a fair share of life and one shall take it bravely.

Don’t forget ultimate philosophy of life: “There are sad days, it passes by and then comes the happy days.”

Well … my darkest days aren’t anyway the same and demand to be counted differently.

When the sun kisses goodbye, the shadow walks in to say “Hi” and only leaves after the battle is won or lost. It is absolutely normal to sleep when the darkness sways over you, of course what are silent nights for? About 90% of the majority are lucky to be dead for a while at least. And the rest 10% of us are called insomniac, clinically depressed or even witches who stand by the night to perform their rituals.

My nights have always been struggle from everlasting solitude to next possible ray of brightness. I have always been jealous watching people sloth comfortably, when I can barely relax. For the capricious mind that I have, the pattern of thoughts is really not defined through these dark falls.

It takes a lasting effort when eyes deny to shut itself. The worries from past and future toss against each other; tears flow down to numb the aching heart; the longing arms that wants to me comforted with concerns; the spine tingling feeling when alerted by sudden bizarre passing figures…

And, at times, it’s just the ‘wounded-will’ (to fight any longer) that survives the stubborn hours.

Sounds quite unfair isn’t it? But just because the title seems melancholic, don’t judge yet.

People say insomnia is a diseases and should be necessarily treatment. The state by its own is just few restless hours that requires productive attention.

In these curious hours, I have lived my most impossible passions. Shaped craps from the garbage into somethings extraordinarily worth (abstract crafts). I have been awoken to the blissful feeling of love that requires no companionship. I have encountered confession that is unbounded guilt.

I have also not missed the chances to shudder my friends by my innocent sleepless night walks (giggles).

Above all, watching the twinkling stars spread out to a brighter light has been my favourite.

And here…my wait for a new day ends, with the first droplet of the mist and the fresh breeze that kindles my soul.

It’s 5:30 am and I am all ready to take over the world.

Chai with Coffee

This combination sounds weird isn't it ??

Even I thought so….

Until I met this girl in my college Monika , sleek as my smart phone, unforgettable eyes dressed in pretty lashes, jumped into cloths of full-size, hardly looked into the world while she walked swiftly, Never studied and almost topped I wondered whether intelligence was tax free for her,she knew everything about the world “Wikipedia kahinki “ !! Unlike me … 
When I spoke to her I realized she was a sane with insanity(one of her kind),she could talk for hours together without missing the useless details ,somehow the rare mishmash got our relationship magnetized .Sooner we were buddies and shared an unconditional friendship in best and worst.

We shared khusiyan and gum,

We shared taraki and barbadi ,

We shared chalaki and bewakufi,

We shared last moment kaam and lazzy lamhe,

We shared wah wah hi  and tabahi,

We shared amiri and garibi

And friendship was beautiful illusion performing real.

Everyday after college she would flavor the tasteless chai from hostel with coffee for me and my reaction would be “chai with coffee ?? ewwww “  but trust me it was better than any sophisticated drink I’ve had.

Her impossible blend of chai with coffee taught me how two exclusively different flavors  complements each other, just as we do.

If you have a friend like I have …go try your own flavor !!

Morning Star !!!!!!

   He(most innocent), once said morning has the power to solve all  your problem.
I (most ignorant) hardly noticed the myth, until……I was utterly into my never-ending sleep, my face looked grumpy and the body was slothfully settled in the bed of soft cotton with silken cover. But something seemed alarming at interval more like a call or a soft push…..

Wake up!!!!!Wake up you Naïve!!!! I rubbed my eyes profusely to look around but it was no one else …just me and fog rushing into the window.And who called me   “Naïve “?? Is my mind singing?? I questioned myself stunningly confused.Anyway I couldn’t sleep the restlessness anymore……. So I wore my pullover, hopped on to the long wide terrace upstairs.

 I hardly woke up so early to notice the magical fog, that was doped with scent of holiness and freshness. It appeared as if the fog was the light oozing out from a bright star. I walked around to feel the whimsical weather of the cold breeze and tender sunlight faintly dancing through the mist making me feel absolute complementary.

 However it couldn’t overlay the random thought that disturbed all night .The thoughts sulked my head so hardAnd I could barely rest in peace.I was thinking about….If what I am doing in life is right ….If it should be the way it is….or modifications are required ….The direction I am heading, the road that I have taken leads to where I want to go……Whether I know where I want to go……………..Have I done anything that is worth it …..Is there more to achieve or is this what I was waiting for ……Should I work harder or let things off my hands and relax ……Should I settle down or I need to fight back …………So many erratic questions that disturbed me at one go. These thoughts almost blinded my eyes that I stopped noticing that I am actually amidst of most beautiful part of the day in my life ….

           

The fog that still surrounded me amalgamated with my off beat soul and whispered the virtue….I don’t know whether what you are doing right or not but you always have the courage to make things right when it goes wrong ……….No matter what direction you are taking destination is always waiting at the end….And no matter whats the end, you should never stop because there is always a new beginning …..When your hands are already at work why do you worry about fastening or dawdling it? Do you always need to be either fighting or be quite……..what about having an option of solving delinquency.

When you are like the passing wind that no one stops why should you even bother to cease .And my soul was departed with all the answers I ever needed …………….
The sun had completely risen  giving me a complementary smile in the absence of the supernatural fog….

        

Broken Wings !!!

I know I know ...it has been a long time ......but trust me even I didn't like the idea of keeping myself from writing.....but the death of my uncle had put me in a state of trauma !!!I was too sad to write anything......Miss you uncle !!This is dedicated to the endless painful fight you bravely fought against death.......

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It was all numb……and dusky ……the sun rays, trying to approach her have been fainted…but  she is awake she wants to fly…. and go to a further distance  …..

Where there’s warmth …..harmony….love ….she raises her wing to ride high into the mountains. She wants to feel the new born breeze against her face !! she could see hope between the clouds…

But  it hurts …..stings  to the  core…as all her wings have been bruised ..crumbled....

Last night the thunder and storm had been too harsh on her…..she tried to tussle convince...and even beg…..but she  wasn’t spared by the cruelty ….They thrashed her down …..swung  all her dreams away…..the ruthless blow made her homeless…It flung all her belongings and scattered away her dear once ……the lightening stuck on her wings burnt it and terrified her……

               

They lied …She tried

They cheated ….she treated

They betrayed…..she exonerated

They forced…..she induced

They cursed……she blessed

But they never bothered ………..She cried “ It shouldn’t have been this way…It shouldn’t have been this…” But they seemed hard of hearing to her sniveling…..her melancholy was too deep to be withheld …Her dreams were too high to be lowered …..Now there she lays all wounded and crushed …alone to herself !!!!

Begging to die now …..to end her unbearable  pain …….Why should she live anyway……her dreams were all snatched away by the traitors….

It was all over for her…..The dream that could only live in her core……..eluded ….and

Desolated…It could never see the face of reality…..It will never hear the voice of justice

Oh how unfair !!!! she thought and arouse to stand with the piercing  pain…

She could barely support herself and see the destruction around her …….

But she started search deep into the scattered twigs smeared with her blood…..

“Where are my broken wings….. ???

Where are my broken wings….???

I need to find them …….I need to fly high…..I have to see the hope between the clouds….

I have to go find my dreams and make them come true ……

Cause ground was not meant for her……..she was for the sky and the sky was for her….. ”

Will she find her wings and fly high again ????

The Tints on my Canvas

                   

The door in the end of the corridor looked familiar, I could see nothing but a little of the room from the ajar of the door. The feeling of going into the door would always give me jitters which made me reluctant to pop in. But today I am rather curious to have a gist of its corners which made me step toward the room. The room was bright like all the lights of heaven descended down and it smelled sweet that  I would love to sniff thousand times a day. The room was completely empty…no no wait there was a canvas !!!!!!!

A canvas of painting ,well not exactly a painting ….just the tint of few colors……scratches…..and scribbling…..(basically rough works)it  look so weird yet proverbial that took me long to figure out the curves on the canvas. Alas  I couldn't so I left having impression of its outlines  on my mind…..trying to think  of what it could be ??? who could have done them ???? no matter what I did ,it drew away all my focus . Time and again I would  visit the canvas no matter how busy I was .But whenever I dropped in  I found everything  in the same state untouched or unused, the same smell and brightness  but the difference laid in the canvas…..each day  few new colors…..new scribbling….and scrapes. I loved gapping at the flairs on the canvas and it became my passion.

To be honest some of them really disgruntled  me as they  appeared  unpleasant….and the other day my favorite colors would be missing leaving behind its traces .I waited long to see whether the painting is finally finished but it seemed like a never-ending pencil

The muddling  state was making edgy.

Until one day….when the sun was waiting to kiss the horizon and the fog was hiding the differences of heaven and earth I found a man fiddling with the canvas….It must be “ he” I thought….the one that is working on it always….as I stood at the doorstep think my presence would hassle him….when a majestic voice said “come in”.I went in and gazed at him…but he was busy with the paint brush……that  looked crude or “archaic” would be the better word to elaborate .As I said Hello he turned to me to say hello …..he could be the most beautiful one on the face of the earth ,his skin was shimmering like a 100 watt bulb…yet  serene . His gentle gesture compelled my eyes not to look away. However I summoned the courage to ask  …..what are you actually trying to make ??? (fumbling and shivering)he smiled gently and said “its not what I am trying to make but that's what your life looks like “The answer was totally unexpected ….”my life “ ????

He continued “yes …..the colors flaunt  the new phase of your life ……scratches are your errs  and scrawling  that made you soooo confused and erotic about things , the color that vanished leaving behind a spot are the things that wasn’t meant for you but you choose them so they are no longer a part of you but of course you stack up  their memories hence they leave behind blotches. Now my wondering thoughts finally landed on the plain of palpability .It was about me and my life…The tinted canvas of my life!!!!!
Then I went on asking…….

ME   :- when will this canvas turn into the finished portrait  ????
HE:- when you will know what exactly to do with the life that’s given to you by grace.

He paused !!

ME:-but who are you and why are you painting my life?????
HE:- I am the one who  formed into what you are…..now I give the canvas to you …Paint it such a way the even if you are not there to say….People will know what you were like and what you have done !!!

And God vanished into the air…..leaving me the canvas but  now I exactly know what to do with my life!!!!