Thirty fifth.

      Love and hate are the abstracts of a same personification. An attempt to explore...


She was a phenomenal existence. He was an existential crisis.

She seeped in easily. He erred stealthily.

He created a new question for every problem she solved.

She led to him, she was the reason he was.

 He was the yellowing of autumn leaves. But she was the one responsible for the fall.

One without the other, they would never be complete;
She was the unending love.
He was the hatred waiting on a call.

Thirty fourth.

     I have always thought of you. Thought you were like the poison ivy. Fiery red during autumns, ordinary green at all the other times. Decisive looks, but an idea lethal. You come across as just an another average person in life. And later get so difficult to forget or detach or demote or demystify. 

     You turn into a matter of concern. Till suddenely, one day, the truth falters, but finally dawns. You are a living havoc, a brought upon chaos. The silence in commotion. And loudness of serenity. 

     In the weirdest of times and worst of places, you make me fall in love. In love with you, in love with life. 

Thirty third.

     It was almost a week since he hadn't let her go out of the house. Or call any of her relatives or friends. It was getting difficult day by day, the fear in her was getting stronger, and the bolder her was dissolving into thin air every passing second. He would never leave her alone for even a minute or two, he probably knew she was already making up her escape plans.
     She would heave a sigh of relief when an another day passed by without anything happening to her. She felt he was capable of killing her lest he found a slightest chance to do so. And given the seclusion she was living in right now, it didn't seem too far.  It wasn't always the same. He had changed so much after they came to know that she couldn't have a baby ever. He had started to make decisions for her. She wasn't allowed to do anything of her choice as if not not being able to become a mother rendered her useless to him. But this wasn't who she was either.
    She picked up the knife from a tray and walked stealthily from behind. It was about to get over, she would be the one to end it. She had never wanted this. But it would have been happening to her anytime now if she didn't do it. She steadied the knife. 'Maya, did you like the- what? What are you doing!' turning towards her, he scrambled onto his feet. 'Let me go out, open the door!' she screamed. 'You need some more rest, Maya, listen to me!' She wasn't going to. Not anymore. Just as she lifted up the knife, he pushed her onto the bed. The knife made a clutter as it fell onto the ground. He stuck an olanzapine in her shoulder. 'You need to sleep Maya!' he cried near her ear. He cried for hours the entire night. Her schizophrenia had got her crazy. She had got him tired. But unlike her, he was going to love her the same.     

Thirty second

    Years pass by, time flies. The only thing running faster than time is your mind. It messes with your heart, gets you involved in someone for a moment, and then in the next one, it explains to you all the futility of the people you’ve got on your side.

    Along with your experiences keep on increasing the number of untold stories too. The more you come to know about people, the more you either love them or hate them. The more you realise the world isn’t all about being good or bad. Its about who is how to whom. Your warmth can be someone’s heat. And someone’s cool can be your cold.

    Between the urge of complete freedom and the unexplained longing for being taken care of, man somehow emerges unscathed inspite of the strange plays of faith and destiny. Once the lust for wandering dies, he comes always to the same point he has strived for since ages, he settles on fulfilling his urge for settling.

Thirtyfirst

How much strong do your promises hold?
Higher than the mountains cold,
Or a sharp ambitious blade of grass
But standing merely in a collapsing fold.

I have wiped clean each of my slate,
Detour from fate has just begun to fade,
Make your moments promise worth all this wait.

Thirtieth

Take my dark
And fight with the light,
I'll be sleeping
My dreams held tight.
I hide my flaws in the deepest colours,
Fabricating those perfections
For the sake of being praised;
But I am hiding deep down,
I'm hiding the best of me;
Fearing the feeling
Of being taken for granted.
I am nothing different,
I am one among the many;
In my heart I aim for the stars,
But fear all places unlit and shady.
I have a heartbeat that defines me though,
Strong enough to bear the brunt
Of every damaging incompassionate flow.

Twenty ninth

No revenge for the hurts,
No regret for the follies,
Unload every feeling that feeds on the past.
Let the only dark thing left behind be your shadow,
Rest all life be a burning halo.
Blur the bygones, trust each of your nerve,
Gone are the days of making it better,
Await only for the best you deserve.