relationship: the tangles

The most versatile word with so mixed feelings tangled with it. To be a little more formal, i can say that relationship is just like the cover of a book. One should never judge a book by its cover, nor a relationship. The measure of a relation can never be quantified. Sometimes a feeling is all that we need. And for obvious reasons of social ties, we bring forth the formality of bringing in the term of 'relationship'.
This morning was a quite a beautiful beginning to what we call a pleasant day. Happily surrounded by all the smiling faces and discomforting ones too, i see uncertainties all around me; indefinite uncertainty. All that could be felt was indefinite disturbances. Now when i speak of the disturbance, it includes all distractions: all one needs to demolish the fair game of a relation, and feelings (to emphasize on the essence). Remember the silent times with the one who is 'yours', when all you had were questions with basically no logic but distractions. Jealousy and insecurity takes the first place. No relation is saved from these cuts. I hope the 'cut' is quite acquainted with ( ). I had have many such instances when i have proved to be one such ample example of insecurity. today was one such day! Sometimes i feel it flow with my blood. (well, i am being personal this time, for a change) i have thrived so well in this aspect. No matured neurons could change me here. And no matter what, every girl has it in her (the guys would definitely agree and girls would agree only when the ego therein dies). May be its a secondary sexual character in females (biology; ahem). But let's bring optimism, that's the game. Optimism : you are jealous, you are insecured: surely implies that there is something that 'resembles' what we call 'feelings'. Now, the next step that could follow is the 'nomenclature' : chose the name you like, say 'friend' or a step beyond it (totally optional!). Now i think i should wind up, but then there is something left unwritten apart from the confession that i am 'in-secured' and 'jealous', and it is that 'i live in you'. I am definitely sure of this fact that some part of you is definitely the clone of me. Enjoy, while i live!

silent serenade

                                    It seems like the journey would never have an end. the night sky outside the window of the running bus, has always been the favourite part of any of my journeys. a drizzle and a hidden moon beyond, could have extended its beauty to zenith. however, that happens in April in the northeast, and not in Vellore. Well, I should keep that in mind. Travelling alone has its own advantages; you don't have to share your chips nor chocolates. but the disadvantages are terrible. You cannot sleep. You have to pay for everything(!), sit beside a probably stinking man! You have no one to talk to, or fight with(ahem); that kills a person as talkative as i am! but then, let's be neutral. though Rihanna kills me and my smile which i try to frame on my face, but this time florida saved me.a sign of relief. now thinking of the journey, one thing i am pretty sure of is : i am going to miss Bangalore terribly this time.the terrible, horrible and torturing colonoscopy did try its best to kill me, but missed it by some traces. The late night drive till the early morning hours, through the amazing roads (the ones bengluru should be proud of) was awesome. Here, i was a little confused about a girl i happened to meet.

                                      we were just acquaintances until this trip had happened. smile was the inseparable part of her. For every and no reason she had one thing to do; smile. she danced to the silliest songs played in the car, dashing every other person sitting next to her. then comes the giggles. she loved being the pup who peeped out the window, scream at the dog and hid herself again. she was...

“The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter - often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter - in the eye.” -Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre.
 well, there are the few words i do believe. no matter how deep you are shielded; there is one window left open. There was a shadow behind the sparkle of her eyes. behind the serenade, was a deep silence.


that was a long drive along the deserted road. the street lights flashed at the sudden smirk. i realised that she was drifted away from her senses. i could smell spirit. quite an aroma! the storm of her babble abated. and that was quite noticable.


she went to a huff. we were in the same car. she dialed some numbers and disconnected. this happened for sometime. a heavy deep breath. the next moment i could hear her speak, she smiled. she cried. but the cold froze her tears. she closed her eyes.


it was morning, and i could never know what was behind that shadow. and now, when she is nowhere around, her eyes still haunt me. but what i miss the most is, the unreasonable smile.

lately.

you can't believe, that you have a broken angel.
the little one who shines like the dew, who always puts you through hell.
but, always.
now, it is cold, it is hard, and she shivers.
she wants you around.
she makes a wish, she whispers.
but she is a broken angel. and her feathers shed.
it is not your fault,
that she is a broken angel. she flies, she falls.
but it's not your fault.
come around, once.
she is a daughter, she's a child, but she's broken.
she feels cold. hold her once.
like a father does his child.
she's wrong. but she was right.
she leaves your hand, but to hold.
she's broken. just hold her once.
and yes, you have a broken angel.
you still do.