Drunken City Dancing

When the lights start dancing and the city smells like wine, know that the air around me is missing you.


Without a word

I was standing there trying and admiring those indian bangles one after another. Subtle car honks mixed with murmuring of crowd in the background. Sun, almost sinked in. Wind playing around in joy.
“Why don’t you try that white dress? I don’t like red.”
A voice took over all the other noises. I turned around in hurry and everything stopped.

White. Ofcourse. Who else would prefer his lady in white and not red. I could see my young self standing beside him. Adoring the white only because he laid his eyes on it. One atrocious breeze dusts off memories I had alomst forgotten.

His attention turned slightly towards me. I didn’t want him to look but before I could turn away, he touched; with his deep blue eyes. I felt it, yet gain.

Everything else didn’t matter anymore. It all became blur and unstaurated. All I could feel was him. We had a distance of eight years in between, but I could still feel him. All around me. All over me. I relived the four years we had together in those four seconds.

A little girl in pink standing beside him, patting his thigh, showing off her ear rings.
“Daddy daddy, look at these.”
His eyes sparkled while he picked her up. He smiled as wide as he could. I understood. Just like I did eight years ago when he left for studies. Without saying a word.

I turned around, smiling. The void I carried for a long time had been filled with peace. After a long time, I wasn’t faking it. I was actually smiling.
For we finally said the good bye I yearned for.

Romance of a Rose

He was the moonlight reflecting on her fair skin,

The sunshine playing with her golden hair.

A sweet lullaby she slept to.

And the romantic song she twirled to.

His thoughts tickled; like a strand of hair on her face.

His words whispered; like Radiance on her skin.

He was the red on her cheek.
The echo in her head.

He loved her, like poets loved the words;

With passion, with pain

And kissed her, like clouds kiss the mountains;

gently, overwhelmingly.


“I love you”.
Zara hopelessly smiled and looked down while her fingers played with the blanket.
“Okay. Talk to you later. Bye”.
And hung up. The call log showed the time of 34:22.
She switched off the lights and laid down on her right. His last words hauntingly whispered in her head for the next fifteen minutes. Out of distress, she turned on her back with her arms crossed behind her head. Stairing at the ceiling, she tried to remain strong and not cry.

Zara very well knew how to lead a happy life. No matter how hard times were, she always made her way out of them. She could excite the atmosphere with her innocent, silly talks and optimistic laugh everyone yearned for. Except for this time. This time she felt defeated. She was lost somewhere between her believe and her reality.

“Isn’t love suppose to set you free?”, She quesioned herself. “How can he love me and demand a change? When he told me that he loved me, I thought he loved ME. My imperfections, careless talks, silly jokes, all these parts of me. They define me as much as my skills, thoughts, likes and dislikes do. He loves me, and then erases the fine details of me. I don’t believe in this love.”

A tear stood in the corner of her eye. “I can’t pretend to like things I don’t like. I can’t pretend to not enjoy every moment of my life. I can’t pretend to show intrest in business talks. I can’t pretend to love his love for materialism. I cant pretend to ignore the pain I feel when I see a struggling human. I can’t pretend. I don’t want to pretend.”

“Two years earlier, while proposing, he promised me to do the best he can to make me happy. I’m not happy. This is not the best. He knows that. He implies his needs upon me. I don’t want to give him what he needs. I want to give him what I have. I want to love him the way love should be. Raw! Why can’t he love me the way I am, or not love me at all? How can I give him someone else in my my skin? I accept him, why can’t he accept me? What kind of selfish love is this?”

Her mind silenced. She couldn’t answer her own quesions. No one could. She digged deep and deeper, but nothing, except silence. Silence was probably the only answer to this. Not quesioning was the only solution. Her thoughts knocked her to sleep, this was the only escape.

Everything about you defines “YOU”. Let it not change for anyone.
Loving someone is not to appriciate their beauty and intellect. It is to respect every aspect of them. Even if we don’t understand.

This is my first attempt of story writting. Critics are always welcome 🙂

Lust for Geniune.


People often confuse our admiration for purity with lust of perfection.
We all crave love that cannot be translated into words, a friendship which see no benefits, Relationships that do not decieve, Hearts that only know the truth. Absolute smiles; Pure and authentic. Of that which comes right from the heart, through the soul and into the eyes.
But it hurts, it hurts when people surmise that we seek perfection, but then it comforts me too, purity IS perfection afterall.


Nothing has ever been perfect nor will it ever be, but we can always quest for veracity. It exists.