desires blossom seeds of not so random thoughts grow deep in my head
It was dream, now I know. But I wish I had not been smiling about it still. Friends adorning the flashing images like jewels in a king’s crown. But does my life looks any brighter ? Isn’t it obvious I was thinking of you subconsciously ? Laughing with a childhood friend on a silly joke , teaching how to make tea for another , meeting two of them for lunch , and suddenly finding myself alone in bed. The dream was still on i assume since i was not in my own bed. I do not want to think about the feeling of being in his bed – he who swore to never return.
pain flows,relished in the bitter taste of tears painted in my dreams
Isn’t it foolish to have my joys at mercy of other’s presence. Or is it a valid human behaviour to miss the people we care for. Only if some one cared enough to notice that. I pick each dream and replace the people in them with one from my present. The ones whose thought make me smile – not as good as the dream but at least i know it’s for real.
You love your eggs half-cooked and you never ceased to remind me of that fact. Every breakfast of mine including eggs will ensure we have this very conversation ending when I would invite you for breakfast at my place and promise to make it according to your taste. Though you never came, I do practice making half-cooked eggs – perfect enough for me to nibble the corners and leave the rest for you to finish out of my hands.
shadows resonate the tears one try to suppress; silence showers pain.
“It’s not that I’m trying to keep it a secret. It’s not clandestine—not exactly.”
“Then please explain what exactly is it, my dear”, dad said stressing each word while writing another letter,maybe to his publisher.
“I wanted to introduce her to you,but not like this”, I said befuddled at being caught red handed.
“Then how?” he looked straight at me.
“After I was done developing her a bit more,I would have come to you myself”
“You already did a good job, son” he said handing me back the manuscript of my first novel.
The sunrise was brilliant that morning. Such an odd day for them not to be together – the first too. She wished she could go with him to the lake, The same where she met him, where he proposed and suddenly she remembered it was the same place he supposedly met his new wife too.