ALERT it's a vain post! If you are reading im sorry to disturb your peace of mind! _____________________________________________
So it's December now. The year about to end. All I have achieved is nothingness, impatience, rudeness, moodiness, unproductivity and to spoil myself further. It feels like I am a character in a movie which has got no foundation. Void. The movie wouldn't have had changed a bit if this characters exits. I play no role in anyone's life. And maybe if I do, I am unaware of it. I am so done. Tears would roll down . What are they? Nothing but water with some sort of salt. Lifeless. Burying the face in between knees and let the salt solution be soaked by the pants . When I stand up no one would even know the tear stained part of that cloth. I am unaware of being unaware. Why people are good at things and not me? Is there anything waiting for me ahead? What is it? Why I feel so vain? How can sunshine enter the window if you keep it close? They say to shine like sun you have to burn like it. But the major difference between me and sun is that it has a reason to carry on. It has a reason to burn, to lighten the world, to keep life going on. It had a reason to come back every morning after each night. What will i come back for? Actually why am I even coming back? There is nothing. It's like being purposeless. The difference between careless and carefree is well defined. But yet so difficult it is to understand and imbibe it. They say I know the necessities but am a complete alien to the execution. Ripples in water formed when a stone is thrown in still water, the destruction of the peace and equilibrium. That is what it feels like. And I don't know how to survive.
She is the Enigmatic beauty Under the tranquil Blue sky.
She is that Shade of mauve Which is as rich And passionate As an aster.
Penelope, I call her.
The goddess of Soothing zephyr And deliciously Mesmerizing petrichor.
She is that flower In the bouquet Which makes even The moon blush red!
She binds all her Fellow flowers Into a knot of Pure love and Scintillating lives!.
Ps. Penelope is a name i address as my diary! I have written approximately 3 diaries and each diary has a special significance in my life. Penelope is the diary which is a pure personification of a kind of person i want to become. Hope u like it!
Pss. Penelope is name with a beautiful meaning "thread". So I gave her a beautiful name "Penelope Ned Asters" The thread(Penelope) , a needle (ned sounds like it! Lame i knw)and Asters(flowers!). In short a bunch of pleasant flowers! I m about to enter 18th year soon , it's far far away yet but still!.
I have been dreaming of those small things and moments people usually tend to forget about. I see a dewdrop fall off a green leaf, then try to imagine it's journey. How that single drop might have had came into existence? Years and years before it might have had formed. That single drop is more experienced than us! From the heavenly heights to the deepest cores, it might have had been once evaporated and condensed too. Flowing through rivers, rivers to oceans, oceans to again the ethereal blue! Then again some day coming back to it's origin and washing the sorrows of a sinful herb , who had been waiting for a gay downpour. Well, there are many other things to ponder. But I like to seek the mysteries of nature and procrastinate the reality. Anyways, talking about procrastinating reality, I enter the splendid world of my utopia, where nothing is happy but your greed to get more never ends. Everything is in our hands, but still out of the reaches of clutches of our fingertips. Don't know if I will ever dream something that will be worth dreaming? When that day comes, what shall be my step? "Everything is cosmically connected", people say "and everything happens for a reason." Well god knows! But sometimes those dreams manage to make me question my own existence!
She embraced her daughter, saying with a motherly excent "C'mere! Dear!", and shared a mother daughter moment with Ashley. She hugged her tightly. After a few minutes, Benny enters. He jokingly pushed Ashley and took the place in his mother's lap. Mother felt so loved and rich but didn't wanted to spoil her kids with love so she lightly scolded Benny, "Benny! Mind yourself, she is your elder sister!" . She kept watching at the 2 pairs of shiny bright eyes who were the reason of her smile.
"Vanessa? Vanessa, are you in there?", came a call from her beloved husband, Jayden. To his surprise, he encountered the prettiest moment of his life . He stood smiling and watching his wife and kids caressing each other. Then at last, when he couldn't resist the temptation to join them, he went and hugged his whole family with his broad arms. They were the people he adored the most. From far away they looked like a happy family. And as Vanessa lived the most precious moment of her life, her eyes wet with moisture, she cried happy tears.
The kids had never interrupted their mother while working before, but today they did. Because their mother was on a 15 days journey, Venice. She was on a tour to explore the city for the plot description. Her book was about to end. Suddenly Jayden announced, "Dear! It will be your honour to have food cooked by me !" And she spilt into peels of laughter. They had a delicious lunch together. And she spent the whole with most favorite people.
At night, she sat to write that eloquent line again but couldn't manage to awaken her agile mind to bring those words back. Again she sat on that faded seat , her head held in her hands. Jayden noticed his wife in this stupor, bent in exhaustion. Vanessa discussed the plot with him, but she couldn't hide the croaking of her voice, for she was nervous. This novel meant alot to her. At last, she broke completely in front of her man, and Jayden did his best to embrace his woman. She was stable now, but the affection still present. She suddenly caught a glimpse of her children, who were being naughty brats were now united and were playing in harmony. She kept looking at them and tried to understand their chemistry. A quick realization hit her mind that the thing she was searching in the unknown land of Venice was right infront of her. Her strength resides in her family and she never needed the tour. The very inspiration was her family. And she wrote the bst end for the book.
6 MONTHS LATER
Vanessa was in a nervous state, but tried to control her tears, cause she didn't wanted to smudge her mascara. Jayden put his hand around her shoulder and her children kept saying to her "Mom! We know it's gonna be you! Don't worry!" . And when the gentleman announced, "the award of bestseller of the year goes to......" her heart was drumming vigorously. "Vanessa L'engle!" , completed the sentence, the gentleman and whole room was reverberating with loud applaud.
So i think i haven't done justice to the end but guys this was my first try to such a genre. Hope u like it.
Soft breeze is blowing on a splendid morning of the mid October, Ontario, Canada. The hues of sun are visible and are radiating elegance. The light falls and bathes the shedded leaves of deciduous trees.
Here she is , sitting in her personal library near a small ventilation window, looking out of it, sunken in grave thoughts. As she rolled her eyes and glanced past her room, she saw the 3 large wall sized bookshelves, her desk and comfortable seat. The seat was quite old and was curved by the wear and tear of customary toils. The fabric of the seat is quite faded and one can notice the ink stains here and there. The desk, old oakwood, had blunt corners after years of usage and all sort of pens and papers were kept it. That little cute handmade paperweight, which her daughter gifted her on her 30th birthday, was clinging to the pages who ought to run with the flow of wind.
She had tied the knot of her life with her beloved husband 5 years ago. Five years of cheerful and frolicsome life with few ups and downs. She dearly loved her elder daughter Ashley and her younger son Benjamin, whom she sweetly called Benny.
The pressure of completing the task in the given time interval was the reason of her wrinkled forehead, which she held in her hands. She was working on the plot, this was the dream book to her, since childhood was it awaited. As a child she never prevailed in understanding the complexity of words and messed up with the vocabulary everytime. Now after 30 years of experience in this intricate world, she was capable enough to accomplish her dream. Nudging the center of her specs with her index finger, she throws the 101st crumpled paper on the floor, wearing a gesture of frustration. Impatiently, she stands up and starts pacing around in her favorite confinement. She was thinking hard. "What should I do to that character in the end? I have to do justice with him. How is the protagonist gonna beat the villain? Think Vanessa think!" , she babbled to herself. Suddenly an idea hits her mind and she tripped over the crumpled papers twice and dashed to her desk. She started jotting down her notions. But just when she was about to write the most eloquent line of the end, her daughter came screaming at her,"Mom! Please help me getting rid of this evil Benny!". And her agile mind managed to slip that particularly eloquent line out of her mind.
ALERT!! A complete skip! I suggest don't read this one! It's meaningless!
Here I am, questioning my own existence. I have a very few people to value, no I ain't no introvert, but I always feel that "Am I able to reach the benchmark in pacifying them just the way they expertise in bringing the best out of me even when I am low?" . I have had people before, valued , I was devoted, close to my heart and lost them. Because I realized I never meant anything to them. I do then nothing but sit and choke the gulps while crying like a cry baby, because nothing is in my hand. Once they were low enough to not confront me, what was it that resisted them from telling me? I question. Maybe I wasn't enough for them. I feel damn insecure because I can't keep them alienated in a cell, preserved for only me. They have others too. But I am weak enough to be scared of loosing them. Is it wrong? I can't decide. I imagine dark things. Maybe Madonna's inverted portrait in a tub filled with gold bricks, or a lady in black and white with only that lolipop coloured, or maybe a street in black and white where a man and a woman are running and they find a bridge and jump of it. These things may sound funny ,but trust me they are nightmares to me. I have seen even more darker things , I feel hungover even though I have never ever in my life tasted alcohol. I don't even know a single name . But what is to be done when you look at the sky expecting a clear and joyous day but it starts drizzling and a hurricane pours down?
Im extremely sorry for wasting your time if you read this!
It's long I wrote anything about what I feel I guess a year ago, I wrote a poem, that made me smile when we met for the last time with shades of gray sunset of our life. It's difficult for me to raise my words again. But every day when I go to bed at the end of the day a strange feeling irritates me and breakdown my thought process, So today my stubborn mind finally made the courage and opened the notepad to write 'us.'
Tell me how happy yard and black shadow are strangers on the same road, are not they?I believe. So are me and you but the road is difficult to pass by on our paths called ‘LOVE.' I wanted to write out how memories of December give me goosebumps, turn my eyes into tears, just tears and heart freeze up threatening injuries, I trusted page to write out you. I know you will not read it ever, nor do I want you to. However, someday accidentally if you read it I hope you will find some ashes of our love in this letter and 'us' on my feed with complex depth in words...People say I write beautiful, and it becomes difficult for me, make them understand it's you who is adorable, not my ink?
Discovering myself through hunk of obstacles Recovering from the pain of fresh wounds Rising from grass to the pinnacle of grace Throughout the journey, I carried bleeding ink I inked love and pain on a century old scroll I feared not the venom of talking snakes Heat in summer boiled my life like an egg Cutting my throat with the double edged sword Spring sprinkled hope on my leaves, and grew Like the tree that grows in Brooklyn, I grew Like the tree that struggles to reach the sky No matter where its seed falls, it grows Growing out of cement Surviving without the sun Thriving without water Rooting out of cellar gratings, It grew lushly Through the heights and lows I could see myself grow like that tree That tree, 'The tree that grow in Brooklyn' I am that tree, the tree that grows in Brooklyn