On keeping a journal

Its long since i have left writing regularly.But in days when i used to do that, i was quite abstract in my writings.That makes me feel better when i glance back at what i have written. After so many years when the events dont carry significance anymore, the emotions still sound fresh. Somebody once asked me why do you write. Do you write to keep a record of your life? Who will read these once you are gone? Or do you think that somebody will? I felt that it is too improbable a thought. I find no point in writing to record. Something that you are never certain of. Its better to write for oneself.....as a kind of therapy.Writing can be self exploratory. It makes you understand yourself. Providing a kind of satisfaction to the one who is writing...

Coupled

She stood in front of the bar, running her eyes over the couples slow-dancing. And then she saw him...Her heart stopped beating for a fraction of a minute and then a sudden rush of blood in her veins.In her heart she had lived this moment a thousand times and she knew this was inevitable.
Her brain had stopped functioning.She looked on, her eyes devoid of expression, as he darted across towards her...In the next few minutes they were standing infront of a black Scorpio. She could see their own reflection in the window of the vehicle.His face looked calm and composed, in stark contrast, to the force with which he held her hand.His dark brown eyes,clean shaven face neatly combed hair and radiant skin falsifying every doubt that could rise in the heart of a passerby.His white shirt and grey trousers added more calm to his appearance. She on the other hand, looked frail..as if on the verge of fainting.Her brown highlighted hair almost messed up like a bird's nest, her eyes smudged with kohl that she had applied last evening and her quivering nude lips giving an impression that she had reached somewhere beyond which there was no going. She held her crumpled kurti's end with her hand. Frantic thoughts passed through her mind as they drove through the dull streets. Her hands were cold as if someone had drained all the blood out of them. She could feel her absolute inability to face the man, sitting next to her in the driver's seat-her husband....Virat.

...to be continued

For my Sister

Today when i look behind-

I find your impressions 

....scattered everywhere

In days of plenty

To those dipped in adversity...

I find you everywhere

You are one of those

Little bright shining stars

Colouring my life

With your brilliance

Guiding and supporting me

In the wilderness...

...called life

Love you Dei...

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Lines that i love

You have been to me

As is a landscape to a blind man's eye

Oft, in lonely rooms,and 'mid the din

Of towns and cities,I have owed to you

In hours of weariness,sensations sweet,

Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.

-William Wordsworth