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nsthoughts · 7 months
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Bahi
I got back from my work, tired as I would always be and headed straight to my kitchen to make myself a warm cup of coffee. It hasn't been long since I moved to a new city and restarted my caffeine addiction. After I made my coffee, I went to my room, where an empty chair and a desk would await me. There on the desk would be a notebook with my name engraved on it, empty, waiting to be filled. I sat on the chair and put my coffee on the desk as I would stare at my notebook. The notebook would lay on the desk for months now and even if I wanted to write something, I couldn't. With no words in my head and my hand refusing to move, there was nothing I could do but to give in to the daily shenanigans of adulting and work. To divert my attention I started staring at the ceiling. It was completely dark in the room, silence in the air,  a solitariness which I enjoyed , or more like grew accustomed to. The lights were turned off and as I kept staring at the ceiling, I slowly began to shut my eyes. The windows were open, being the gateway for a cold winter breeze would embrace me and suddenly send me down the nostalgia lane.
"Few years back, as winter would slowly arrive, I would get in my hoodie and go out with excitement in my heart. Why would that be? Of course because I would be meeting her. It wasn't a routine nor was it a compulsion, but I would try and meet her every time it was possible. As the cold breeze would embrace those shedding leaves, I would keep my hands inside my pocket keeping it warm. I would walk, when my phone would be buzzing with her text messages. "Where are you?" And my reply like always would be "Just round the corner." You know how your heart would beat faster and faster and your entire body starts feeling happy, what is it called? Oh yes, butterfly in the stomach, that would happen to me whenever I would see her. As we meet up, we would usually go for a walk together before ending up at a random or the same usual cafe we would visit often. After entering the cafe, it would be our usual order of cappuccino and latte and her gossips. It always would be a warm feeling for me, to see her smile, laugh, talk all while I would hold her hand and stare at her like a creep. For me she would be an enchanting sight, which would often make me forget about what was going around me. And her, she would simply remind me to have my coffee before it gets cold. Then, as we continue to talk, or rather just listen to her, I would walk her home, embrace her and text her "I reached home" before calling it an end to those exciting days in my boring life. Just as I finished reminiscing about those sweet moments, it struck me that the coffee I made for me had gone cold. I smiled looking at my cold cup of coffee and went back to the kitchen to reheat it. After reheating it, I went back to my room slowly sipping and enjoying the warm coffee before I sat on my chair again. I looked at my notebook again, but this time I smiled. I took another sip of the coffee and as I picked up a pen to write in my notebook I told myself "I reached my room, and yet again I forgot to have my coffee."
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nsthoughts · 1 year
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Brief Exchange
Perhaps because she found beauty in the used and abandoned. Something that belonged to someone once. She liked imagining all sorts of stories a thrifted dress or a book had behind. But who is she? Someone who would love to watch a comet or the astronomical wonders or someone who would get lost in the stories little books had to offer. A messed up girl to herself is an enigma to me and with time that curiousity was growing into me. But to my amuse maybe she was messed up or maybe we all are, were, by someone or some point of time yet kept on going. She did too. Her beautiful black flocks as they laid across her shoulder with the mere sunlight grazing past was picturesque so were her eyes as they had their own tales, seen throughout her existence. But who is she? Someone who would change the pace of conversation with an instant totally forgetting what was the brief exchange she had had or someone who would take the love for loss. At the end her being someone so mysterious and simple living on her own with a window deck turned into a book shelf or someone fascinated about the cosmos makes her who she is. Like Carl Sagan once said "Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known" and just maybe what he said is actually true.
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nsthoughts · 1 year
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Lost Book
"I finished Sula, I cried a little." I remember her words well. I don't know how it began, maybe it all started when we both were stranger to each other yet we felt each other. Or maybe it all began when we thought there's no beginning. Books, always her favourite. It wouldn't be a surprise if I would ask her what she would be doing and her reply would be reading. Oh wait, she even read while we would be having small conversation. I didn't know much about books, even till date I don't know but her reading would always be a pretty sight to me. She would talk her books and I would just listen as I get engrossed and lost in her tales of books. "I have been looking for "Song of Solomon" for quite some time." She would say to me. And I did listen. Listened to all her books and their tales. From Murakami to Toni Morrison, her tales were beautiful. And how can I even forget her love for Miller's Circe. Greek mythology and the tale of a goddess who battled her way through. Maybe it all began with me telling her that she's a bibliophile to me telling her that she made me fall in love with books. Whatever it might be, I am grateful to how it turned out how it is. Because in the end, I still remember me saying to her "you are mine" with her replying "and you're mine."
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nsthoughts · 2 years
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Small Things
9°C. As I read the temperature on my phone screen I knew things would get pretty cold in the night. Shillong, would be the place I was at and as I got down our cab in the Police Bazar, little drizzle would welcome me and my friend. While we took shelter in the ever so crowded Police Bazar or locally known as PB, we waited for another friend who would host us for the night. I didn't bother to check my phone until I found her text asking me if I reached Shillong. I replied with a pic of mine and her reply made my day. As I smiled through my screen my friend waved us hinting at the time to depart from PB. As we reached his room, a warm heater and a pile of blanket welcomed us. It wasn't something magnificent but a little rain outside with temperature dropping below 9°C makes people crave for such cozy warm environment. We had our dinner, we all were tired, two of us from the journey and one from his daily college life. It was time for people to sleep, but we had different plans. As our host made the joint fresh for us, my eyes went to the book I had brought with me. "God of Small Things". At that moment I paused. I paused because it struck me down deep as to why I brought this book with me. Did I read it? Yes I started reading the book. Did I finish it? No I didn't. Did I read the book that day? No I didn't. As I was deep in thought my friend passed down the joint to me. That startled me but I took the puff and I retrospected. I took another puff as I held the book in my arm and the joint in another hand with a blanket wrapping my legs around and the heater warming up the room. I continued reading the book. Oh I would be lying if I would say this book at that time hit me different because honestly I got lost in the words of Arundhati Roy and the chapters of the book. The words were so addictive as I lost track of time and finished the joint in no time. As the end of the joint made me look at my phone's screen with no reception and her last text notification, I checked up on her. She was worried. She thought something happened to me. She was praying for my safety. It was those small things that made me fall for her always. Remorseful as I felt, I wanted to tell her I was fine and I was busy reading the book she would gift me but there still was no reception. And as faith would have it or my God of Small Things would witness, I got a little bit of reception enough to call her and let her know that I love her. With a smile on my face I went to call remembering where I would leave the reading the book.
"If he touched her he couldn't talk to her, if he loved her he couldn't leave, if he spoke he couldn't listen, if he fought he couldn't win.
Who was he, the one armed man? Who could he have been? The God of Loss? The God of Small Things? "
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nsthoughts · 4 years
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Afternoon
Pretty. I wouldn't lie if that wasn't the first word that came to my head when I looked at her. Bare skin, lying next to each other. And as she slept taking those faint heavy breaths, I would simply hum to "Norwegian Wood" by the Beatles. I set my gaze upon my table, books stacked up. From "The God of Small things" to "The Alchemist" to the "Norwegian Wood", I would simply wonder if I'm living the tales of the books. I pulled the blanket and tuck her in nicely as I would sit leaning my back on the wall. "Remember you would say to yourself that you are going to save her, that you are going to make her yours. You did it, you lucky bastard." A voice inside my head told me. How did it all begin though? I just remember talking to her and the next thing I knew, I would fall in love with her. I was lost in my thoughts just then a voice diverted me. "What happened? Is everything alright?" Interestingly, it was not only her voice that seemed favourite to me, but it was her everything. Her body, her face, her personality, her soul, everything bewitched me. "You do know that when you lie down with you hair loose and wild, you look really beautiful." I told her as a reply. She blushed and I just stared at her. There was no sound other than two human beings, possibly in love with each other breathing faintly. I went real close to her just to feel the taste of her lips on mine, a rather warm sensation I felt. My hands slid down her waist as I pulled her close. I felt her skin, heard her heart beat fast. But even with all that, I was still unclear with the answer to how it all began. And honestly, I didn't want a clear answer either. Something happened and it was beautiful. She was beautiful. Her snowy skin, or her beautiful black flocks, or her earnest eyes or her soft lips, for me she was no less than an art. It was about time she would leave and before that we decided to stop by at a cafe. A cafe filled with books, stories and cup of coffee. The day would eventually come to an end and I would write this piece with a question attached to it. "What inspired me to write this?" Maybe it was Murakami and his works, or maybe it was Coelho and his works or maybe it could be just me writing to adore the lady I love. Who knows? The possibility would be limitless just like my love for her.
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nsthoughts · 4 years
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Inspiration
"You know what? Someday you too will read. Someday you will start writing again. You will meet this girl who will be there. She won't be an inspiration but she will be there to make you feel loved." He smiled as he read that. "Well, you weren't lying when you texted me that." He thought as he laid on the bed. He took a glance at his notebook. "Not today" was his answer to self. He started staring the ceiling fan and was about to get lost in his world of words when suddenly his phone rung. The name was a familiar one and so was the voice. "Henlo, what are you upto now?" She asked. "There you again with the doggo lingo. Was just about to take a nap. What about you?" He replied. But there was a silence on the other side. He immediately realised he messed up but she had already hung up the call. "Fuck I was to meet her today. You dumb ass how could you forget." As he cursed himself he started getting ready. He tried getting her back on call but she wouldn't receive. He had messed up bad. He hurried out of the house and got to her place as soon as possible. "Come on pick up the call" was what on his mouth continuously but no response. He went to her house and knocked on her door. A small angry girl would come, open the door and would just head back to her room. He went inside and looked at her as she sat quietly being angry. "Why are you here?" was her response. "To meet you as promised." He smiled. "And what if I don't want to meet you," she said but her voice clearly sounded disappointed. "Then i will have to kidnap you like the movie 'Highway' ". There was a silence for a while, then they both started to laugh. He sat beside her as she hugged him from behind. "I hate you. You always make me mad, then you make me laugh. Can't you just let me stay angry." He didn't say anything. He didn't want to. Because he felt something. He felt a small body hugging him from behind. He felt the muffled heartbeat of that small body. He felt the warmth of that small body. He felt love. "Get ready, we need to go now." He told her. She nodded and cheered up and they went out. And as they started walking he hurried his steps and got ahead of her by an inch or so. He looked back at her as she walked observing everything around her as she would usually. "You said the girl won't be an inspiration and would just make feel loved. Yet here you are, making me feel loved and being an inspiration to what I am going to write today." He said to himself.
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nsthoughts · 5 years
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Efforts
I wish I could pick up my pen
Or atleast try to
Because I want to write, no not necessarily will it be something romantic or a tragic
It will be something very simple, just like you
I just wish
Wait, there's more, well if you feel like reading it
So I heard you say you would have crossed oceans back in time for the one you love
I heard you say you have put in a lot of effort
Efforts
For someone you loved
But you didn't ask
If that someone deserved it
Well those are the things of past
I personally prefer the present where it's you and it's only you
True to yourself, loving yourself, being yourself
Now I see you put in lot of effort
And now I just did pick up my pen
Because I will write
And it will be something tragic and romantic
But in the end something very simple, just like
"I love you"
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nsthoughts · 5 years
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Loving Space
"I'm sorry. It's just that sometimes the old memories haunt me and I end up being confused, feel awful" she said with moist eyes. "But I will be alright. I will be back up stronger." I stared at her. She was pretty. It was as if she was the image of pretty in my head. Her pale skin, moist eyes and black curly flocks was a sight to behold. "You can do it. As long as I'm with you, you surely can do it." I assured her. Soon through those empty roads we arrived at ourp destination or rather hers. She was home. I bid farewell to her and returned to my home. I sat on his table with my usual calm demeanor and started thinking. "I'm disappointed. Why? Because after hearing those I have realised "I haven't succeeded yet." It was agonising. I was mad. But at the same time I was sad and loved her at the very moment. Indeed I was disappointed because I couldn't let her know how much she means to me or how much I love her. I wanted to let her know that I would be her strength no matter what. But then I'm so bad at expressing. I'm so bad with words." As my mind was fighting this battle full of emotions, I took a deep breath. I looked into a book. "How can I even forget you?" Said to myself. The book she gifted. And I remembered. The time when I told her "You are mine." Suddenly, I had an urge. An urge to express because I was able to make her mine only by letting her know how I felt. And then I started writing "Loving Space."
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nsthoughts · 5 years
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Maktub
"Try Murakami's Norwegian Wood or you can also go for Amitav Ghosh or you have something in your mind?" As she continued uttering the name of books and what those were about, I stood there like a complete dumb fuck not having a clue of what she was talking about. Or maybe my subconscious had some clue. But then seeing her so excited as she talked books and tales it felt good. "So that is the real you?" My mind started to do the talking. "Someone who loves books, dreams those tales and live those words. A bibliophile." It is funny and I cannot quite believe it that it is the same girl that seemed gloomy and dead from inside when I first met her. But today I saw a different side of her. Or you could say I saw her being alive. She was like a little kid completely lost in the land of books. She hopped in and out from stalls to stalls, scanned every shelf and I just went along with her, watching her being alive. "I just love this book so much. Definitely "The Alchemist" by Coelho is my favourite," she said. And for me, the sight of her holding the book as if it was something close to her, that became my favourite. "So what have you decided? Which one you need?" She questioned me. She got me startled and I could do nothing but say anything is fine as I had no clue about any book. "Okay, then I know what I will be giving you," she answered. After the evening was spent well, I reached home. I was all dead tired after walking miles but then also I was excited. I went to the bed and stared at the book. It was like I was a small kid excited about a present when I received that book from her. "The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy." I took the book and started reading it. While reading it, the pages did smell of her. And as I continued reading the book, slowly I started to fall in love with books again. And as I continued reading the book, I realised she became maktub for me.
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nsthoughts · 5 years
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My Book
Dusty book shelf as I set my gaze
How long has it been since I left reading
Forget about me leaving aside books
How long has it been since I have had this feeling
I don't read any book or novel anymore
But why do I feel I'm floating in this symphony of words from the pages of a romantic novel
Or could it be a tragic one
And as each day pass, the words get written,
Chapters get finished and new one gets started
How long has it been since I have picked up the pen
Now as another chapter is about to be finished,
I want to ask you "Darling, would you like to fill in the blank pages of this book I'm living in?"
But then again I'm also afraid
Afraid because I once asked that same question to someone and I ended up getting the reason to leave reading, hate novels
But you, you have made me addicted to words again, addicted to novels again
And as these unattractive verses of a so called poem is about to end, let me recall
How long has it been since I have fallen in love again
~N
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nsthoughts · 5 years
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Last Wish
"I don't think I can make it this time" he typed. "Toi nahile muk namatibi" was her reply. For a while he waited, thought about something and then replied "I'm so sorry, hope you can forgive me." He didn't care much about her reply. He turned off his phone, went to his desk. There he could see his half empty pen and blank page awaiting for him. "Who thought I would be writing a letter something old school in this fast moving society" he said to himself as he started writing the letter.
"
To gulgule,
Hey there, I hope you are doing well and oh wait. It's your birthday and I can't even being able to express how excited I am or happy am I for your birthday. But firstly I'm sorry. Sorry because I'm writing you a letter to wish you and not be there to celebrate with you. It is because of the circumstances that I didn't make it today. And secondly thank you. Thank you because you have been a strong support for me ever since we met. You were there when I was at my worse. You were there when I needed to talk my nonsense. You were there being a constant for me. And for that I'm thankful and very lucky to be your friend. You are one true gem that everyone deserve in their life but then wait, what will happen to me if you would be everyone's. I can't let that happen. Anyways enough of sentimental talks and bull shits. Happy Birthday you crazy. Wish you a very good fortune and stay blessed because you deserve all of it. Lastly, try to forgive me because I hid that stuff as I didn't want you to ruin your day. Ciao Bella Gulgule.
Love,
Your N
"
As she read that letter her eyes became moist. Suddenly her brother came towards her and asked "Why do you always look into that letter from 10 years ago in your birthday?" There was an air of silence for a brief moment between them. "It is because if he would have been alive, he would be the first to wish me up. But then again even till date whenever I read that letter at 12.00 midnight it is like he wishes me first" she replied with a smile.
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nsthoughts · 5 years
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Distance
"So, this is where you go your way." I paused. I waited as if I was hoping for something. She did too, but was it hope or her being just generous nobody knows. As I was about to walk away, she asked me for a hug. Maybe that was my hope, or maybe that was me still wanting her. And feeling that warm embrace again, made my eyes teary. Again I felt that heartbeat but for whom nobody knows. I didn't let go of her, she didn't too. I wanted the moment to last longer. I wanted her to be mine for little longer. But reality was there to stop me. I restrained myself back and this time I waved her goodbye with no turning back. As she went ahead towards her uncle's house I just stood there and watched her go away as she did a year back. And as the distance between me and her became more, my memories came close. I booked a cab to my home. I waited for my cab while still being lost. Lost in hope? Maybe. Lost in a world where she became my happiness? No, that was a year back. Soon my cab arrived and I got in. And you see God works in a miraculous way. As soon as I got in heavy downpour blessed the city. I took the aux and started playing my playlist while I got lost in my thoughts, in my dream. Hope. It's a dangerous thing when having from a wrong person. A year back we would talk everyday, I would solve her problems, I would calm her down and I would try my best to let her know that somebody loves her the dearest. I remember myself not sleeping until I made sure she would sleep because she used to have mental breakdown and would not sleep and just cry. And me, I would just try to make sure she was alright, made sure that I was with her no matter what. But all that with distance. The problem was that I was always there for her but not physically. She was 1945 kms away from her home and here I was being close to my home and far away from my shelter. Faith directed this story so well and distance delivered its role to perfection, while hope could do nothing but just try to ruin me. But that was a year back. Getting to see her, being strong and happy made me happy too as I always used to tell her "my happiness lies with you." But from being best friends to lovers to now being complete stranger, I surely got to know how time changes everything. How distance changed everything. I got so lost in my thoughts that I almost forgot that I have reached my destination, my home. As I got down my cab and disconnected from the aux, I saw the song that my playlist came across. "Choo lo" by The Local Train. I smiled and entered my home as I sang the last line -
"Haan mein ruka hoon,
Tu ja Chuka he.
Haan mein ruka hoon,
Tu ja Chuka he."
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nsthoughts · 5 years
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Deleted Post
"Go ahead, type the post" as I saw this when I opened up the Tumblr app to write something I suddenly felt hollow. I checked on the time, it was 2.30 and I couldn't sleep. Probably because I'm yet to come out of the trauma that shook my ground completely. There was a time when late night meant I could be alone, play some games, listen to songs or even scribble down some random words. And then she arrived, like a thunderstorm completely destroying the comfort zone I had created for over 17 years. Late night wasn't the same as before. It changed to me always talking to her, sharing my views, my emotions, solving her problems and loving her. It was a fairy tale for me only to realise later on good things never last. Well that is what I started to believe after I got abandoned like Billy Batson (only the difference would be his mother left him, it was motherly love but mine was a romantic one and oh it's a DC reference from "Shazam"). And after months finally it would be the date tomorrow when we both realised we love each other. See, fairy tale right? But we wouldn't be together anymore. It would be probably because I am living of a Harvey Dent lifestyle (another DC reference from "Batman #66"). I have started living two alternative lifestyle. A part of me that still wants her, still loves her and a part that wants to forget her, stay away from her. It's tough fighting this battle. And when this battle of mind and heart happens, you never know how you would end up. And as I checked the time again it was already 3 and I was done scribbling. I glanced at the screen at my finished piece and finally I deleted it. Probably because I knew there was no point writing this or no point letting her know that she is a beautiful rose. Good to see but hurt yourself when you try to hold it. I tried so hard not to stay awake so late at night because it reminds me the memories that I want to forget but I couldn't today. Because tomorrow would be the day, the day we didn't realise that our step would only be the beginning of something great.
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nsthoughts · 5 years
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Shelter
I built a shelter once
Collected all the pieces
Put them together
And built a warm place for me to stay
I built a shelter once
Where I put away my soul and
My everything just so that
I could have a warm place for me to live
But time is such a cruel beast and
Faith being it's ally, the shelter got snatched away along with my soul
And before I could do anything the shelter would become someone else's home
My dreams got shattered as the shelter was no longer mine along with my body that was no longer with it's soul
And eventually the shelter got destroyed
It got shattered like my dreams too and how many times I wished I could just rebuilt it
But I would be lying if I would not be saying
That even if I would put my everything to rebuilt the shelter I would never be able to put my soul into it for it no longer resided in my body
And I would never be able to feel it's warm for it no longer was my home to stay
~N
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nsthoughts · 5 years
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Jack's Rebecca
Why does my heart beat, faster whenever I see you or hear someone mention your name?
Why do I feel like there are no butterflies but freaking puppies rampaging down in my gut just because you loved dogs.
Why do I dream of you everyday amidst all those complex formulas that run through my mind.
But it's funny because you aren't to be mine, right?
You aren't to be anyone's but someone as perfect as you are but can't I just try?
Can't I just try to be that someone you never needed but someone you never knew you wanted.
And among all those talented guys, I don't know where do I stand but I do know one thing that I won't give up on you that easily.
Why? Because Bec, I want to be the Jack Pearson of your life and you know what?
He never gave up too.
Now that I'm about to end this so called poem,
Let me ask this to you,
Why do I keep missing you when you aren't mine to be missed?
But lastly why did I ever fall for you when you had heart for someone else?
And probably I would never have any answer for that.
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nsthoughts · 6 years
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Begin Again
Let us begin from the end.
When the truth of me being your world was the most beautiful lie I used to believe in,
And you being a blessing in my life was the worst curse that could ever happen to me.
I could have sworn my entire life to you but you just chose to have a part of my life,
Not realising that you took away a part of my soul too.
And amidst all people I still look for you, your scent, your eyes, your hair and your personality but most importantly the love I never received.
And the funny part of you leaving and me staying even though I knew it would kill me slowly would become my worst nightmare.
Now it seems I have slowly started losing the faith in love, faith in people, faith in you and someday might give in to darkness.
But then giving up would mean I was weak and the fault would be yours and I wouldn't want any of them.
So I will live on without your presence, without your existence, till destiny do us justice.
And now that I know that the lie of you not loving me was the the only truth I never believed in,
And faith being the curse was the only blessing I ever received.
Let us begin from the end.
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nsthoughts · 6 years
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Tea Story
As I entered the small room I could instantly smell the aroma of lovely brewed hot tea in the stove. The aroma was so soothing that it had me captivated for a while and then suddenly my eyes wandered off to her ethnic wear. She came rushing towards me and being startled I uttered "Hello there !!" We exchanged greetings and then she led me to the table where she was busy doing what she does the best. We settled down on the beautifully crafted wooden chairs and the only thing I did after sitting was staring at her for a couple of minute as she was busy trying to fix her weapon. I knew this was going to take a long time so I had the privilege to order what they named as the "tour bus", an aromatic herbal tea. "So.... Are you going to say something or what?" She broke the silence and all I could do was to reply to her "let me stare at you for a while." She blushed at my reply and before things could get awkward the arrival of the "tour bus" changed everything. As I poured down the tea for two of us, the surrounding instantly got covered up with its beautiful aroma. I took the cup, smelled it, (and honestly I couldn't just get over that aroma of it until now) and took the first sip. It was an elixir. And when I thought things were awkward from my side, I realised she was staring at me while I was enjoying the tea. "Ahhhhmmm... Here have a sip." Knowing that she was staring at me, I offered her cup of that tea. And as she gulped down that last drop of tea from her cup, I began narrating my tale to her, my tale of existence and my tale of writing. As we continued sharing each others tale of existence, we lost track of time. And when that pot of tea became empty, coincidentally our tales ended too. End in the sense we were interrupted, because she was busy working and it seemed I had interrupted her schedule. After her work was done for the day, we were about to head home. But I didn't want things, that meeting and that moment to end so quickly so I proposed her that we walk till a certain distance and then we would book a cab home. We walked till that distance only to realise later that my brilliant master plan had failed. With us, silence went hand in hand and then we got on to the cab. Now I was about to thing my whole plan had gone wrong and tag the day as bad but suddenly it turned out to be great. I had to get down first because we lived in two separate locations and mine arrived before her. As I got down the cab, I saw her suddenly getting down the cab too and before I could realise, I was wrapped around by her tiny arms as she held onto me tight. "Thank you for seeing me today." With those words, avoiding my eye contact she went inside the cab and left. And I stood there like a clueless guy having no clue what just happened. But whatever did happen it made me feel good and I smiled. I came inside my home and the interesting thing that I realised was that it was not just the aroma of the tea that I couldn't get over, but it was her aroma as well. How captivating it was and I just kept on thinking about her. I went to my room being fallen over her charm and then took the pen in my hand as I started writing "The Tea Story."
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