Skip to main content

Hindolam: M₁

By

At every corner, she glimpsed him. Through the mist, she saw his figure, looking at her, the love in his eyes never fading. She tightened her grip on 'his' hand, her love, and glanced back. Sometimes she wonders, was it true? What he believed in. Whether she was his princess. But, she lost that moment. And she lived in her present, and the past, a mirage. Nothing could change her love for 'him'. She looked into 'his' eyes and all her inhibitions disappeared. She didn't hear the soft crunch of leaves behind her. She was too occupied with her love, her beliefs, with 'him'. She didn't see him steal glances at her. And sometimes, he lost her again, in the mist, in the blur, in the obscurity. 

But he always found her, for his love for her burned in his heart, a bright flame. She gave him the key to his freedom, but he flung it away. He chose his way of life, he wanted to chase her forever. He would never give up. His incessant pursuit fascinated her, his yearning for her. She knew not how he could love someone he has never seen, never known. It was a kind of love she had never seen before, something she couldn't comprehend. Was it love? Or just a fantasy? Was it a telepathic connection between two souls? Or just his wishes, dreams reflected in a pool of his thoughts?

Unanswered questions that floated in her mind, that perplexed her. For now, she chose not to think about it, as 'he' looked into her eyes with unspeakable love and she got lost in that abyss. She knew that she found all that she ever wanted in 'him', eternal happiness. She would never leave 'him' for anything in the world. 'He' was her world, a beacon of hope in her life. They loved each other with an intensity that could move mountains, that could make the impossible seem possible. And that was all she wanted. She closed her eyes and drifted away...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Utopian Hallelujah

By
UPDATED : I saw her first on 26 January 2009                    : This post was written on 18/03/2013: 06:42 PM                          : And i said what i wanted to say on Wednesday, May 22, 2013 6:18:00 AM                    : I met her in person on 16/8/14: 12:07 PM, the craziest thing I've ever done in my life! They say I am crazy 'cause I am in love with the crazy utopia. "Crazy Utopia" could be a person or her, obviously her, thoughts or even her existence. Each day i born new and likewise my love for her is new. I know her for the past five years and i am in love with her from that very point of time whence the "past five years" started. I've decided a myriads and myriads of times not to think of her ever and for never. But, I still keep thinking of her. I, personally, maintain a very secret creed that hails the uncertainty of time. She's a proponent of Crazy Utopia and she's a crazy Utopian too. I feel great whenever i thin
8 comments
Read more

Some Brain, SomeOne, Some Paradigm, and My Me

By
Left brain: "I am the left brain. I am a scientist. A mathematician. I love the familiar. I categorize. I am accurate. Linear. Analytical. Strategic. I am practical. Always in control. A master of words and language. Realistic. I calculate equations and play with numbers. I am order. I am logic. I know exactly who I am." Right brain: "I am the right brain. I am creativity. A free spirit. I am passion. Yearning. Sensuality. I am the sound of roaring laughter. I am taste. The feeling of sand beneath bare feat. I am movement. Vivid colors. I am the urge to paint on an empty canvas. I am boundless imagination. Art. Poetry. I sense. I feel. I am everything I wanted to be." My Brain : "Once I used the left one, but later I found that the life is much beautiful than I thought of. When I was occupied by the left one, I saw nothing but the equations, structured paradigms, and classified intelligence.  And I joined for Mechanics. Somewhere in between, I
5 comments
Read more

At the hour of Last breath

By
(A poem by Rafeeque Ahammad. Translated by Anand ) Stay with me at the hour of my last breath, Amassing the burning veracities of life, My Fingers are dead, Let them get ease by caressing you. Last molecules of my breath may cart thy fragrance. My love, let thy face plunge In the eyes of mine, never to be opened. Ears, no longer be opened for sounds, Be sealed with thy mellifluousness. Mind, burning with thoughts and memoir, Be filled with thy evergreen memories. Kisses-made scars on my lips, Heal in the sweet chants of thy name. Reminiscences of journey,   Unto thee my love, my feet tranquil. That’s enough for me, Buried under the earth, I resurrect- Newborn leaves of grass.
7 comments
Read more