Posted in Prose

Hard days

Some days are hard you know,
To pull myself out of bed and sit up to bring myself to my senses and motivate the dull me to see through the blinding morning light and somehow listen to the music lost in the cacophony of the world beneath the four walls of my house is just so exhausting. Very exhausting.
Will you ever understand that?
Some mornings are torturous, I wander away like a shadow in the dark, absent to my mind and lost in the horrors of my thoughts.
I have lost myself to the uncanny pain that built up in me a while ago when I lost myself in the highways and by lanes of my rather messy life. It’s been a while. A really long while since I became a vagabond in my streets and a stranger within myself who lost herself in the hundred streets stretched out all before her and the millions of people walking away cooly- in and out.
Some days life feels like walking down a deserted street, lined with broken lamp posts and crooked roads stretched all before me this way and that.
Trust me, some days have been hard, harder than I can possibly explain to you. Do you really wanna know-how how hard it has been or are you no different like the millions of people who have crawled in and out my life like ants all over a strewn away candy?
I will never know and I am not giving it a chance.
I am far away from home, where the lights shine bright and the birds sing a song of melody. I am far far away in distances that I cannot possibly measure yet tell you that it will take me forever and ever to walk back home if it isn’t for a miracle.
Let me look around….
I am somewhere distant, you wouldn’t find me even if you set out in the morning to come in search of me. Or would you?
……..
Some days have been hard, I drag myself to the window to pull back the curtains and let a little optimism sink into the parched grounds of my mind.
The birds here sing a song of melancholy it makes me want to shut away and melt away into the pain that bulges in my mind and disappear into the thinnest wave in the air.
Posted in Pictures

Colours in the skies

Some evenings feel like forevers, the nostalgia of something from the past lingering on the clouds and the colour of happiness clinging onto the face of the skies though deep inside my head hangs down a pale, placid and insipid screen of cloth that now projects nothing but Nothing. Just nothing. Those colours in different shades of pink, blue and orange sloshed across the skies in no style and perfect way remind me of my empty life that was once splashed about with colours vivid, that hardly made sense but made it messier like never before. These colours did not go with each other. Wasn’t blue a little too calm for a fiery bright orange or wasn’t pink soft and simple to be set against blue and orange with clouds too big and soaring birds going home? Life had a different way with me too when it decided upon chaos mingled with tiny bits of love, hate with masses of confusion and black standing out against white backgrounds. The colours fading away now, blue now turning dark blue and pink and orange giving way to darkness, like when the painter decides to go darker at the corners and come clean of anything light and mild, it’s a new world now and so be the milieu in my life. Chaos did give way to peace, love did give way to hate and a lot of other things changed because the painter simply decided to change the whole picture taking it away by it’s eisel.

Dusk creeping in now.
In the evenings I sit watching the skies, realizations dawn on me, wounds that healed open up and some tears do flow down and sometimes hopes are put out. I have no choice but isn’t there something mesmerizing in the colours on the skies, the fading away and darkened shades of some colours that really get you thinking and somehow gets you into adding some colour in your rather skeletonized life that so desparately needs some stuffing,colour, a little magic and a gentle touch of love.