A Confectionery

The pages of my book fluttered incessantly, as I waited for my sister to try out ‘one last outfit’. Sigh, that’s what she said, at least. “How do I look?” she asked, as she exited the changing room, and grinned at her reflection in the mirror. “Great.” I said, not bothering to look up from the boring black and white flooring that I was currently staring at. My sister always looked pretty. “I think you should have a look,” she snapped. “Just once.” I decided to give up, and looked at her. I was awestruck. The red dress hung beautifully on her slender frame, and made her look even more beautiful. “It’s..it’s lovely!” I exclaimed. “I know.” She said, with a wink. “Can we go now? I need to prepare for the test.” I said, knowing that I’d have to do a lot of coaxing before we could finally leave. “Yes yes, I know about the test. Just a minute. Let me do the payment.” She said. Oh, that was easy! “I’ll get the car out.” I muttered. This was probably the most impo...

My solitaire glimmers in the dark, as we sit silently by the lake. My lips curl into a thankful smile, as your fingers brush against mine. You pull me into an embrace, as peace ripples within. Engulfed in the warmth of your love, my languid soul, now complete. The moon casts dancing shadows on your face, as my eyes glisten with tears. Reality is painful, is this a dream? Untamed thoughts, yet timid talks. Of blissful rainbows, and clear skies. Not of storms or hurricanes, raging furiously within. Not of the end of the forked road, but of the journey ahead. Whom are we trying to deceive? Is this what we'd vouched for? You were the dream I always dreamt. You were the reality I fantasized to face. You were the rhythm my heart beat to. You were the fresh air I wanted to breathe. And here you are now, a broken mirror. Your presence shattered like broken shards, in my seemingly languid life.

MAGIC! The word itself sparks images of wands and spells and charms into my mind! ( If you know what I mean. ) But I shall blog about that sometime later. All of us agree that we need a little bit of magic in our lives. That 'magic' can be a certain person, a certain emotion, or a certain experience. Magic, for me, is the incomprehensible and the inexpressible. Oh no! Not those vaguely illogical superstitions, but the unfathomable impact that certain happenings have on our lives. It’s magical, how little things that happen to us manage to make us smile the brightest. It’s magical, how some people etch their names in our hearts forever. Its magical, how smiling at a stranger could make their day. It’s magical, how a good book could change your way of life. It’s magical, how the year's first shower could wipe away all your worries. It’s magical, how a cool breeze can calm our senses. It’s magical, how all of us have our own definition of magic. It’s magic...

The grass crushed softly beneath our feet, as we made our way to the lake. It was our last evening together, and after 5 years of togetherness, we had finally decided to part ways. “Shall we take the longer route today,” he asked. I nodded in agreement, and continued along the rocky path. We walked in silence, occasionally broken by the chirp of a bird, or the rustle of fallen leaves. The lake was as serene and calm as ever and as we settled ourselves beneath the tree nearest to the bank, he began to throw stones into the lucid lake- an old habit of his. The stone sank with a soft plunk, and sent ripples all around, disturbing the calm of the lake; perfectly mirroring my inner feelings- calm, yet disturbed. “I'm gonna miss you,” he said. “Me too.” Not another word was spoken. My mind was buzzing with thoughts, as though waiting to empty itself to him and even in the silence it felt as though hundreds of words had been exchanged. “It’s getting dark. I g...

How vague, do those fears of the past now seem, How absurd, are the people, once held high in esteem. How bizarre, are the pleasures I once craved for, How weak, I was, right from the core. How clouded, were my thoughts, By the greed of ambition. And, How tangled, was my pitiful tale. But people and experiences, can do wonders. They brought along a storm, and the thunders. No causalities and no destruction. Just clarity and resurrection. The world is now lucid and serene, With a few dark clouds, and some sheen.

Of withering leaves and wilting flowers, Of scarred thoughts and parched skin, Of blood roses, and piercing thorns, Of the desire to taste sweet sleep. Of pain, stabbing through, Like a hundred syringes. Of experiencing the end, In its complete glory. And of falling prey to the wondrous illusion, Death.  

Pain, cries, tears, and blood. For the first and last time, I cried, she smiled. And an unbreakable bond was made. --------------------------------------------- 'Mom', I muttered, my hand tightly wrapped around hers, and her pretty face reflecting in my eyes which glistened with tears. “I love you”, she said, as the light from her eyes slowly faded, and gave way to a chasm of nothingness. This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend , an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.