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The darkness before sunrise is most dense.  She  pondered over the thought. Can this darkness get any denser ?  How  long  would be her wait ?  Most importantly, will there be a sunrise in her life ? 
Sleep eluded her. Memories of the past haunted her.  She fought them bravely. Yet. There had to be an end.
Not long ago, she had been a young girl. She thought the world was a beautiful place.  A handsome young man would take her as his wife. The mere thought gave her  titillations.
 Little did she know that her fate has conspired against her dreams. She was simply sold off to an ugly dork by her father.
She shuddered to think that she had been bartered several times, abused and shorn off her modesty.  With alarming frequency.  Nobody cared she carried a child. She was never sure who the father was. Nobody cared when she miscarried. She did not mourn it too. She felt numb, almost giving in this time.
One night she escaped. She never knew she had a bit of courage left.  She got lost in an unknown city. She had no money. She could die of hunger in a matter of days. But she did not care. She had seen a  life  worse than death.
Death failed to scare her. Life had already scarred her beyond repair.


You writing is capable of hitting hard. You will hear that a lot in future.
Beautiful :)
It touched a chord.
You sure do have a way with words.

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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 


The eyes searched someone. The one she could run to at times of need. In someone’s lap, she would pour out all her troubles.
Nobody came.  She grew up, rimmed her eyes with kohl. But they could never hide her tears.
No one came when her soul was ripped apart. No one heard her cries. No one mourned her loss.
After  a while, she thought that tears were a part of the eyes.