In her private hell...

Life sighs a last whimper...
In her private hell...
Lights dim...
Sounds muffled...
Not a leaf moves...
No air breezes past ...
All is at standstill...
In her private hell.

Framed musings...

On a windless , moonless night ...
What does she think about?
The frail frame ...
Framed musings ...
Heartless Wonder...
Or woeful wondering?
Ah, the framed musings of a solitary night ...
Whiling away ...
The time ...
Time that is slipping away...
Never to return...
Time lost ...
Wasted away...
The heart growing weaker by the hour...
The feelings becoming numb...
Was that a slight breeze?
Was there a whiff of scent?
No, it's just her imagination...
Playing heartless games...
Lost in her thoughts...
She edges along a precipice...
The plunge deep down...
A dark abyss awaits her ...
A slip in her awkward gait ...
And , she will be lost forever.
Framed musings of a frail mind.

Finding Happiness...

In pursuit of excellence...
She lost herself somewhere...
In between the devil and the deep blue sea ...
Finding happiness within...
She found a meaningful life ...
Giving up on false pretenses...
Giving up on fake smiles...
She found her real smile...
Relentless pursuit of pleasing others...
Became a trivial memory ...
No more curios and unabashed debauchery for her ...
Leaving all care to wind ...
She became one with nature ...
Letting all caution go down the drain...
She emerged from the deluge of depression...
A winner all the way.

Now, she doesn't need company...
She's her own companion...
She thinks aloud...
She jots her thoughts down...
More or less blogs her uncensored mind ...
Emerging from her shell...
Her solitude a bliss...
A blessing is her melancholy loneliness...
For she emerges stronger...
Victorious as always ...
A shade better than before.

Finding happiness within ...
The glow apparent...
The hint of a glint in her eyes...
Minty breath...
Rosy lips ...
Shades on ...
She moves to another realm ...
Her awesome World of fabrication...
Words spun out of her imagination...
She floats as a free spirit...
Oblivious of any aches or pain...
Her human form experiences...
She lives dangerously on the edge of life ...
Any moment can be her last ...
But, you know what...
She knows she has lived life to the brim...
No regrets ...
No desires...
Just floating around...
Waiting to vaporize in the air ...
The wind echoing her name ...
That's the ultimate goal...
The final destination...
The happiness within.

Mindless tasks ...

Master stroke of an empty mind ...
Mindless tasks ...
Uneventful chores ...
They all lead you through your GPS ...
To the task at hand...
When pouring your heart out ...
Clearing the so called writer's block ...
All you need to do is ...
Mindless tasks.

Thorny issues at hand ...
Seem seemingly seamless ...
One finds the quietude...
A bliss to enjoy ...
To rejuvenate ...
And bounce back.

The chirpy self ...
The devil within...
They all surface in words ...
Lingering on thoughts ...
Smacking on lips.

Ah! The flowery words...
Bestowed upon the beastly paper...
The ink pad soaking the sweat ...
The words glistening ...
The thoughts poured out.

Are we done for the day ?
Nay, says the mind ...
We have miles to cover ...
Mountains to climb ...
Oceans to explore...
So much more ...
Yet so little to show.

Master stroke...
Seemingly mindless...
Seamlessly mindful.
#GoFigure

The Driftwood...

Floating from shore to shore...
Sometimes stuck in sands ...
Sometimes in oceanic rocks ...
The dead wood ...
Known as driftwood. ..
Fancies the eyes of a local fisherman...
He retrieves it from in between the dark rocks ...
Deeply entrenched in the sand below...
The fisherman wonders ...
Whether to dry it  and use as fuel ...
Or sit down in solitude ...
And carve the mermaid of his dreams out of it...
Suddenly, he hears the voice drifting in the wind ...
Calling his name ...
He looks at the piece of dead wood ...
And , heaves a sigh...
Catapulting the driftwood...
Back into the warm waters of the ocean.

When memories start ...

Memories, an integral part of who we are ...
What happens when memories start fading away?
She doesn't remember a lot from the distant past ...
Increasingly agonising is ...
She doesn't remember anything from yesterday too...
It will all come flooding back one day ...
But till then ...
How does she remember?
It's chilling not recalling...
Whom you met the day before...
But she remembers meeting them ...
Half a year agos memories ...
How is it possible?

What if she forgets herself one day?
Then what?
Fading memories and a blanket of black ...
No fired up neurons...
Just a blank page.

Freedom of expression...

When your freedom of expression is curbed ...
What do you do?

Freedom of expression...

Can't ... For people jump to conclusions