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Reflection : Do you really love him ?

She (reluctantly) : Yes, I do.

Reflection : Tell him.

She (sadly) : He’s too good for me. He doesn’t.


Reflection : You like her ?

He : Like ? I love her !

Reflection : Why don’t you tell her ?

He ( laughs it away ) : She’s too good for me. She doesn’t.


Tulika said…

Beautifully put.
Vinz said…
a normal thing...
Ria said…
Nikita said…
Dats a good one...
Bikramjit said…
COme on give them a JOLT tel them they need to speak out or miss an oppurtunity here..

a nice post though ...
Priya Joyce said…
common confusion tat exists in the hearts of two lovers :P
we all wish we cud read the mind of the person w love
Anonymous said…
Hmm... nice 55-fiction.

At least the situation's rosy overall - it might just change for the better :) (or so it seems to me...)
Thousif Raza said…
do you think most of the love stories end this way.... the fear of foraying into a land...a land of happiness we want to dwelll, but fear, cause of the reason to lose... we sacrifice... and yet we live... in sacrifice :)

take care and keep writing.............
Hmm...why doesn't the reflection tell the guy...'Man, she said the same thing to me...she loves you..go tell her!'
What you wrote is closer to reality...nice one :)
Phoenix said…
need i say its beautiful?or do u know that already?
ANWESA said…
Thanks !!
ANWESA said…
@Vinz, is.
ANWESA said…
or should I say, communication gap ?
ANWESA said…
Thanks !!
ANWESA said…

:) Thanks !!
ANWESA said…
@Lil' Priya,
ANWESA said…
Hope so :)
ANWESA said…
I think many stories end like this..only if they had started it...alas !

Thanks for being here !
ANWESA said…
@Destiny's child,
Reflections do not talk ; they just reflect our thoughts :)
ANWESA said…
Thanks dear !!!!
kanha said…
i ve some real lyf experiences like dis
ANWESA said…

life !
Neethu said…
ah! happens....
ANWESA said…
Glad to see you here :)
heartbreaking as usual told by you...

loving your posts... keep writing...

you rock
ANWESA said…
Thanks !

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I cannot remember my mother,
only sometime in the midst of my play
a tune seems to hover over my playthings,
the tune of some song that she used to
hum while rocking my cradle.

I cannot remember my mother
but when in the early autumn morning
the smell of the shiuli flowers floats in the air,
the scent of the morning service in the
temple comes to me as the scent of my mother.

I cannot remember my mother
only when from bedroom window
I send my eyes into the blue of the distant sky,
I feel that the stillness of my mother's gaze on my face
has spread all over the sky.

~Rabindranath Tagore
Note : This was one of  the earliest poems I read,loved and cherished.


Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017