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R.I.P.

So a death happened… just like so many must have happened around the world at the same time. So we went into mourning, just like so many loved ones of the deceased must have; the only difference being that some of the people mourning him didn’t even know him. We neither knew his face nor figure; neither his personality nor his principles. But we mourned him, because he has been a part of the community that we were now a part of.

The people who knew him cried their hearts out and the people who did not know him just looked on in silence, not knowing where to go, what to do. They did not even know who the world had lost, who they had missed a chance to know. But a death affected them nevertheless- all the people, whether they knew him or not. The death of a young man- who seemed to be the epitome of life itself, multi talented and loved by everyone- was a shock. To have lost life at an age of 19, that too for no fault of his. It was a tragedy that even the ignorant people mourned.

We all prayed for his soul, wished him peace and remembered him.

And I learnt a lesson… no matter what you are going through or how you are or where you are… there always are people who love you and care for you.

Whoever you are… you will be sorely missed by all who knew you…

Rest in peace.

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Pile Up

Truce and treaty, peace and pose

The world does deserve repose

So lay down your arms

Lay down your hate

Pile up on love and change your fate

 

The throbbing hearts that try to link

Will be united by a swing of ink

When throngs of sensitive souls

Take an oath to realize their goal

And on an immense paper they sign

A promise that the world will shine

 

Truce and treaty, peace and pose

The world does deserve repose

So lay down your arms

Lay down your hate

Pile up on love and change your fate

 

The harried minds that try to unite

Will be joined in a game to ignite

The amity in different people

May they come from church or steeple.

For a friendly game may be the hour’s need

To instill peace, if only a seed.

 

Truce and treaty, peace and pose

The world does deserve repose

So lay down your arms

Lay down your hate

Pile up on love and change your fate

 

The patient intellects that want to join

When all the hands come and conjoin

To form a chain of pledges and vows

That care to change today and now

And all the people who lend their hands

Who hail from various different lands.

 

Truce and treaty, peace and pose

The world does deserve repose

So lay down your arms

Lay down your hate

Pile up on love and change your fate

 

For the people who try to connect

Will be immortal in a sonnet

That will capture this momentous day

In a beautiful and celebrated way

For this is the beginning of a historic age          

That in the story of man deserves a page.

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The Same As Me

Twirling the graphite pencil between my fingers, I stopped scrutinizing the photograph in
front of me. I was waiting to read the words that you would write to me in reply to what I
wrote to you. I knew you were taking your own sweet time, soaking in the meaning of the
letters in front of your eyes; trying to make sense of all the puns my language revealed. So I
waited for you to give me an appropriate reply but I was soon going to lose my patience. I
could feel that point edging closer. And then you replied, exactly when I was going to place
my fingers on the keyboard.
And I smiled.
And frowned.
And giggled.
And glowered.
And blushed.
And sulked.
And smiled again.
All those expressions within two hours of chatting with you, because of you. You promised
to keep me company throughout the night and I was happy with the thought itself. Until,
fate conspired against us keeping company to each other the entire night; the net connection
faced some problems and disconnected- disconnecting my connection with you, my life line
for the night.
After a few moments of shock, I sighed. Then I looked back at the words we had shared and
I smiled; and I bet you did the same…

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Her Story

Nobody knows how many such stories happen all over the world but everyone knows that they do happen. And everyone knows that there are only a few endings to these stories. Everyone experiences them in their life at some point of time.

And yet everyone says that their story is different. So I don’t know if this story is the same or different. The one who is experiencing it right now herself doesn’t know. But it is a story, and people usually like to tell stories so I retell her story in her own words-

I was brought up for seven years as a single child; till one day one special soul decided to join me in my home- my sister. She is not my soul sister; that would become a very common collocation. She is a mini avatar of myself, living my life-just more happily. She is like a part of me. My body can’t function without her; my heart can’t beat without her; and my mind can’t work without her. Oh, we do fight like normal siblings. But all my decisions, everything I do is with her in mind.

Even this decision is for her. I know- we are both suffering because of this distance; it maims us both; we both pine for each other; shed silent tears for want of each other. But somehow, it made sense to come here. Because I don’t want my parents to make the same mistakes they made with my upbringing. I want them to concentrate on her and make her better than they made me. And for that I have to be out of picture. So I am here, and I love this place and the people. And my parents did seem to carry out what I had intended to happen. Until…

Until I finally decided to be a little selfish and make a decision for my own happiness. I broached the topic of changing from Science to Arts- from what I could do to what I wanted to do.

And hell broke loose. Fights, tears, arguments, manipulation techniques, pent up frustrations and hidden expectations were ugly actions from both the warring sides. And even one wrong action from my side, one wrong decision, could ruin the peace of my home and in turn, affect my sister and her future life.

So I am still stuck, should I be selfish and do what I want or should I do what is best for my sister?

I have no words for it is not my question to answer but I pity the state of this poor girl, this friend of mine. I don’t exactly know what she is going through, but I can imagine…

And I am sorry for her… 

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Toxic

Tears were rolling down my eyes- flooding my lap and staining my clothes. They were dark black tears, toxic with pain and frustration. But nobody could see them, for they were cloaked under the shadows of my veil that I tried hard to keep.

But how long could I go on? So I saw that you were here; just a touch away. And I suddenly knew what I needed- you. I can’t remember how many times this had happened before, I reckon never. But now I needed you. So I reached out and you caught me, reaching out through the glass films separating us. I could feel you then, hear you. And your heavy and wondrous voice filled me, making more sense than my own voice could ever make. And I listened with utmost care, holding on to every word- every word healing every tear.

Your laughter was taking effect. It transported me into a realm where I couldn’t feel the pain; though it didn’t leave me. The black of my tears was lightening. It became grey now. Your laugh was just so powerful, so enchanting and tempting that I couldn’t hold back, I couldn’t resist. So I just gave in and laughed; my laughter infused with yours. And it was then that the most marvelous magic transpired. My tears turned colorless and lost their toxicity. They were clean of the poison and sparkled, as they basked in the adoration we felt for each other.

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A White Board

A white board, glinting because of the light above it, had scribbles in all the possible colors. Words, encouraging words, were written on it. Well, encouraging for the person who had written it. For me they were pure blackmail. Words declaring that her parents wanted to see her studying hard, that they had high hopes and that they would want to see her successful. Words that were either expressed by her parents or words that were put up to convince herself of her ‘purpose’; her purpose of being her.

I’ve never understood why somebody must be emotionally manipulated into doing something, whereas they would do it themselves if they were internally motivated. If they wanted to do it themselves, they will. They don’t want to do it you say? Then let them not do it. Who are they living for? You or themselves? There is a difference between showing a path to someone and shoving them down that path… Know when you are crossing the line… Or you won’t help the person, you will ruin their life…

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Clad Simply

Clad simply but with a leather weight hanging from my shoulder, I shuffled in the darkness along a path I could barely see. My cloth bag was lighter than yours so I exchanged bags with you. And I shuffled along, with my gaze stuck to the ground accompanying both of you. Dim lights shed a few rays on the stone route and I could make out your silhouettes.

It should have been a silent, scary night but it was far from that. The surroundings were so silent that even a whisper could waft through the vacuum. But your conversation was voluble, lively and jovial. I couldn’t help but smile. I walked silently, just listening to your chatter; speaking little, infusing some of my opinions with yours. Slightly intimidated, I was hesitant to speak up, but the both of you together soon put my fears aside. So my shuffle transformed into a steady gait to catch up with yours. Soon my voice was a third in the conversation. Not as much as the both of you but confident enough to speak up a little. I even laughed a little.

Walking like this with you, I soon saw the path differently. Lights were approaching. Actually, we were approaching it. And then a drifting waft of coffee tantalized my nose. So we had some coffee at the building and after waiting with you for a while, I smiled and went with people of my own age; from a magical world to a quite different world of a young teenager.