That girl

Last fall,

I saw her in the meadow

stitching flowers-

colorful ones-

on her plainly white shirt,

her hair neatly done

eyes filled with dreams up to the rim

smile tapering till ears

that could drive any passerby crazy

She would take breaks at times

to fill her lungs with the crisp air

dancing merrily down the hills,

she'd cup her little hands,

fill the flowing river into it

as much as she could

and drink it

to quench her thirst.

After that fall,

winter knocked her door

the flowers withered

into coarse futility

river froze to numb her hands

cold tried best of its endeavors

to inculcate despair into her soul

Yet, I found her the next fall

in the same meadow

stitching colorful flowers

on her plain shirt

Her hair though,

open,untamed and,

frivolously held

eyes still portraying dreams:

blurred but undaunted ones

still smiling through tears,

she soaked into the cool breeze

frolicking down the hills

she filled herself with the river

more this time,

for her thirst had doubled

and her hands now formed a bigger cup.

-Pragya

To my diary

Diary!

Please accept my heartfelt apology for not addressing you as "dear". I have never understood the concept of pseudo gratitude. Since it's just been a day that I have known you though we'd met earlier, I shall say it when I truly mean it. I am sure that moment isn't far away.

I know it is really selfish of me to remember you only in need. You had been placed untouched among other useless notebooks since a very long time. You might find it too much of a cliche to be decorated with a letter on the very first page but I couldn't come up with any beautiful idea either. Forgive me for being such a bore.

It might sound rude but if I can't be loyal to you , I don't know where else shall "loyalty" hold good in my life? You are one among the other fancy diaries I have been gifted with on my birthdays so far. From the beginning of my love for writing, I have in a way made it easier for my friends to choose a gift for me. They need not take their precious time for deciding what to gift as writers always need a diary, right? I will share you a little secret now. Most of them lie their untouched. I don't intend to disrespect the feelings that have been attached with the presents my friends offered but most of them have these beautiful colorful pages. My heart aches to scribble on them and defame their beauty.

Now that you've realized I have chosen you as you were the ugliest among all, trust me when I say this, you will be the most precious one. As I write, you will be the spectator of the tough times I will be going through . You won't be embellished with a beautiful handwriting nor by the multi colored pens girls mostly use. Your pages will be filled with sweat my palm releases as I write out of fear and frustration. When I run short of exact words to frame a sentence, you will be blemished with many cuts and dark scribbles I use to hide my errors. You won't smell of lavender or roses but of the tears and turmoils I will be going through.

Even though black will be the only color you will see throughout the journey , you will be well acqauinted with my various shades. I shall bleed black into your proximity but there you will find many colors reflecting my state of mind. Some days you will have to bear with my mood swings and the rest with my insecurities. You will deal with my pride and my downfall at the same time. Since people have basically given up on me ( which is fair enough looking at the mess I am ) , you will now be my next best friend , my soul mate , my better half or whatever terms that are used to describe one's closest person. You aren't a person but I will treat you as one. I will talk to you, hug you when I'm tired and express my frustrations when I feel like. I know you won't complain. That's why I have chosen you.

You know how a selfish human mind works, right? I might not remember you when I am happy. The days I don't write, you will know I am enjoying something else and have probably forgotten about you. Don't get upset then. Even though the day might feel warm and your absence might not haunt me, you will be the star shining over me when night engulfs me in it's darkness. At last the only thing that matters is who stays in your tough times, right?

As I sum up this letter, I won't promise you that I'll come back because all my previous diary-writing attempts have failed miserably. I merely wish you won't be the next. We shall meet when my heart gets filled with emotions and starts searching for pages to explode.
Until we meet next time ~

Would- be yours,
Pragya

Grey

As she gasped a large portion of air to fill up her lungs and relax her speedily thumping heart, she heard her name being called in a soft voice.
 " Miss Paru, you're next. Please come in."; a short nurse called her. Her legs trembled as she made her way into the gyanec's room.

"You're pregnant"; the strict looking lady doctor had to repeat the statement twice to make Paru believe what she just said. She had heard it the first time but every inch of her body accepted the fact only a minute later.

On her way back home, Paru realized the news of her being pregnant wasn't something totally out of the blue. In some nook of her heart, she was well aware that the result would come positive. The chemist's pregnancy test kit had shown the validation of the conception but with a hope of proving the kit wrong, she had considered consulting a doctor. This very decision didn't turn on her favour, though.
Her phone beeped. It was a message that read,
" What did the doc say? All's well?"
This text displayed a kaleidoscope of memories of past two years and the events that led to this day.

Paru was an ambitious girl with a middle-class dream of earning money to be happy "someday". With the dream of a satisfying and fulfilling "someday", she was in a race to outstand others and acquire it sooner. Her pace subsided and she detoured a bit after she met Birat.

If the relationship that Birat and Paru shared had to be summed up in a shade of color, it would be "grey". For him, Paru was merely an undefined acquaintance. Birat always voiced on how getting committed wasn't his thing. He hated how mainstream dating ended into marriages. After seeing his father's multiple affairs and the flings of his mother, he had framed an opinion that one cannot live a life with a single partner. Marriage was a life long obligation Birat didn't want to get attached to and it was fair enough on his part to think so. He thought she felt the same.

Indeed, Paru too shared a similar feeling when they first dated but her emotions did transcend with matter of time. She had started developing a short corner for Birat. When she laughed along with him stating how cool their relationship was for it's peculiarity, she secretly wished it was nothing but a cliche. Despite of her knowing that they didn't have a future , she couldn't stop deterring from what they had. She knew what was next yet her love for Birat said "stay". She made sure her vaulted emotions never leaked when Birat was around. It was strange yet beautiful for her until she missed her periods.

" I can't even imagine the trouble we might get into"; Birat had said when she first told him about the period thing. How she'd wished he named the unborn anything but 'trouble'! Paru wanted the baby but not as much as she needed Birat's presence in her life. She wished to give birth to a life which was a beautiful combination of her and the one she loved. All in vain;  she could never develop the guts to confront him about her wish and put everything on stake.

As the evening ended into a night, Paru muffled her longing amidst the grey and replied the unattended text;" Relax, the result was negative.Congo! " , gulped in the abortion pill and buried herself into the bed....

*buy*

If I could, I would buy your time that is slipping away from my arms into the hands of your obligations. I would pay any price to relive those moments that were supposed to be cherished by us today but it's only me reminiscing the bygone days. I would purchase our giggles that have now turned into awkward smiles. They say, " change is inevitable". Only if I could exchange it with my emotions, I would pay any amount of my laughter to get that "change" in my favour. I would happily surrender my joys just to be in your embrace even for a second. I would buy those kisses that seem to be lost amidst our silence. Strolling around the memory lane today, I found imprints of forgotten promises lying under the rubble of my broken hopes. If I could dust them off and bring them back, I would put an effort to regather those broken pieces. Life is short. I would spend any sum of money just to spare few of your precious minutes into my worthless proximity. If "priceless" was an amount I could afford, I would buy you.

*promise_me*

It's true
I have a way with words
They've become a part of me
But when at times I fail
I fail to utter them
I fail to make you realize
How special you are
To my soul
I fail to decorate
My emotions
With my assets of words
When feelings choke
Right on my throat
Obstructing the flow of words
Promise me
You will understand my silence even then,
I know I look sorted
My life has a routine now
Scheduled events
Pieces perfectly synchronised
Pretty organized, right?
But a day might come
I might become a mess
I might stop understanding
The so-called "routine"
I might have a hard time
Realizing the "path" I'm headed to
This well managed girl
Might some day become
A puddle of imbalance
Promise me
You will hold on to me even then....
Promise me
You'll see the sunshine with me
But,
Promise me that
You will stay with me
to bear the terrifying nights as well...

*justlikethat*

Just a hello and I'm done. I'm not replying any further I swear. I can do it. I can ignore him.
 "Hey! How have you been?"
Oh! he replied. 'Lonely' was what my fingers wanted to type.
" Good and you?"
I lied.
After months of no conversation I had finally gathered courage to say a 'hello'. It's strange how we had to force ourselves to sleep after our never-ending chat and now.. Now I need a reason to start talking.My phone beeped.
" Fine "
Fine? Seems like he doesn't want to go beyond the 'How are you'-phase. We are familiar with that phase, right? A new person initiates a talk and you don't want to take it further. So, you just have a 'How are you' chat? I'm sure everyone can relate.
It is the zillionth time I'm opening up his profile and looking at the same picture of his. Such a bore! Never changes his dp. What if he is typing a long text describing how he'd missed me all this while waiting for my message. Oh my! Look at my cheeks. I'm blushing. That's not going to happen, stupid.
Or, what if he is collecting words to frame a proper sentence as he might have been shocked by my text after a long time? But wait, ...he ? And collecting words? Words come to him oozing out of his mind, he just needs to pick a few. He has always been a master of words.
Ughh! He isn't going to initiate. I'll text him again. What shall I say? Umm.. should I ask him about his college? Like I don't know he graduated last month. What a creepy stalker I am, damn.
 ' Do you miss me?'. Wait , no .. backspace backspace.! Okay let's just type :-
' When are you planning to return Nepal?' and Enter!
........
As his name changed from 'Arush' to 'Facebook User', ' You cannot reply to this conversation' was the only reply I received after that .

*mess*

" I want to sleep with you." ; I said as I gulped in another shot of black coffee. His eyes poked straight into mine as he held my hands and left the cafe.

His dark messy room was filled with the scent of cigarette and alcohol; just like his mouth. The undone bed, unwashed dishes told a lot about his unsettled heart. Yet there was solace amidst his chaos. A long deep breath felt fulfilling here rather than my luxurious apartment.

Hastily, he tried dusting off the books lying on the floor when I went close him , pulled him over to his bed and whispered into his ears ; "It's okay. I love the mess you are. Sometimes it reminds me of myself."

Digging myself into the bed, I asked him to sleep besides me. It was six in the morning. I hadn't slept last night and few of the previous nights. As I turned my back towards him, he wrapped me in his arms from behind. There were layers of clothes against our skin preventing us from feeling each other yet it felt as if he had been touching my soul since forever.

In an utter silence of the room, all I could hear was a vivid sound of his breathing and faintly overpowering heartbeat. I loved it how our breaths synchronised just like our hearts did. After a long while, I felt relieved. The intangible burden that I carried all this time seemed to have found a resting place. Indeed we were broken, but at the right places. The broken piece of his heart exactly fit into my hollow one. Sometimes you don't want to be healed. You just seek for someone sharing a similar pain as you. You know things won't change so you just look for a shoulder to lean on at times of stress.

My husband wasn't a bad person. He tortured me at times but loved me when he didn't. His day started with a gentle peck on my forehead and ended on a whip on my waist. I didn't object. I was used to it. I was used to the pain followed by a  simultaneous sweetness. When the one hurting you, kisses the bruises he created, the pain doesn't subside but intensifies. It was the same with him. Every breath I took in his presence choked me deep within. I feared his touch and his aura suffocated me to the core.

I knew I was at fault. No matter how many times he bet me black and blue, he never cheated. I did. I was lying there in the embrace of another man happier and satisfied. I couldn't help it though. Somedays when I felt like sleeping without the help of a tablet, I came to him. He never hesitated nor did he ever question. He listened and that was pretty enough. He gave me what I could never receive from anyone else ; his silence....
- ♡