Skip to main content

You.

Its humid in here.
The air is heavy, or is it my heart ?
I slip in and out of consciousness.
I feel some frantic movement around.
But it no longer bothers me.
I see you - younger, smiling, happy.
I try and smile.
Vision eludes me and I drift to sleep.
You are there - in a dandelion garden.
You look at me.
You say something.
No sound reaches my ears.
You smile and start running away.
Pausing to look at me.
Strength fails me. I cannot manage to move.
Suddenly I realize I can run.
I run towards you.
Stretch my hand to you.
Did you slow a bit ?
I finally grasp you.
It feels warm and strong.
Like ages ago.
I look at my fingers too.
They seem to be young too.
No more wrinkled,shaky and weak.
I realize we are running really fast.
I laugh loudly.
You join me.
We run together.


Labels:

Comments

WindWatcher said…
This is very beautiful!!! :D
October 12, 2014 at 12:08 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

UNUTTERED WHISPERS

I know it was you, following me all along. I don’t need eyes to see you. It started raining and I paced up. You were anxious about me.You offered me your umbrella with your face hidden.Only if you had understood me ! I never said those three words, but I thought you knew. P.S 1:My first attempt at 55 fiction. P.S : A real big thank you to all blogger friends who made my birthday "A day to remember".
67 comments
Read more

ILLUSIONS OF REALITY...

The more you point out my mistakes, The more you are drawn towards me. The more you try to hurt me, The more you bleed in your heart. The more you run away from me, The more my memories haunt you. The more you want to forget me, The more you are reminded of my presence. The more you want to chase me away, The closer I come to you. The more you hate me, The more you end up loving me. The more you call me an “illusion” The more I dawn as the reality of your life….
104 comments
Read more

CONFESSION OF A WOMAN...

When I'm born,I'm jeered at.When I'm a child,I'm made to believe that my reason for existence is somebody else.While I'm growing up,I'm discouraged to question.My brain and heart are numbed.I cannot die too,since it will bring infamity to my family.People would say,"At this age,what could have forced her to terminate herself ? She failed to materialize her fantasy.Such bad morals." I fast for the well-being of my father and brothers.When I outgrow my frocks,I'm let off to another household.There, I work for others, without pay.I have children but they treat me like a door-mat.Here too,I fast for my husband's and childrens' long,peaceful life.When the man of the house,who happens to be my "husband" dies,I shed a part of my soul.I have no right to live then,I just breathe and sit in a corner.Rest of my life is spent in praying-for death.They say, "Woman needs a man.In childhood,its father.In youth,its husband and in old age,i...
77 comments
Read more