“You girl, I tell you, have the most amazing gift of blending any line into the curve you wish to and bring the life out of it. You are an amazing artist.”
The lady I loved who now is a woman and a to be mother, not just carries one heart but two inside her flesh and blood; and I can say with her tear drops on the petals of the flower I just plucked, she carries not just two but three, for my heart is still with her.
He smiled, his heart content for what he had done. All he dreamt was to spend his life with her, writing stories and driving a Bullet. Little did he expect, he would be watching over the entire city wearing a khaki and saving people while imagining her memories and recalling the words from her last letter, travelling in a commander jeep.
The journey from holding a pen to donning a Khaki wasn’t what he really thought of. But he was pretty sure he would find the man who had destroyed his love and kill him.
Eyes had lost its longing bond with dreams, nightmares molest them, as I wake up with screams.
Colours and silhouettes, both look similar, when hope meets disappointment, I guess it’s familiar.
And I’m sorry, Dad, how I demanded for extra pocket money lying about books and material and how I spent your hard earned money in buying chocolates for the girl who wasn’t worthy enough.
She never gave up on him, never did she accept he was flawed, she knew that the time is an unconquered master, it plays its game really smart, even the sun looks weakest when its in the west, she always insisted him to follow the thing under his chest.
Falling for her was very easy, just like the rain, but the injury from the fall dispersed me into many shapes, I couldn’t gather myself to stand altogether as one unit of droplet.