Stop.

Stop.

Look to your right.

Look to your left.

Stare.

Cross.

Die.

Kiss of death.

So it be let out, the words that haunt the hollowness. The intent so wrong and the heart that has been blackened. The head of the wraith like snake that slithers into the caverns of destitution and oppression. So far deep into the cavern that it begins to radiate the tyranny and monotony of the so-called evil and unpropitious. Slowly the mouth parts and the the lips tremble, sweat beads on the forehead and your breathing paces, your eyes close and you draw me into you. I look around fro help, eyes wide with panic. The terror of death and found its way to unwrap my worst nightmares.

He leans in, his arms around my waist, pulls me closer and finally his lips meet mine. The dreaded kiss of death. And now I have no way about and out. For I have kissed my own death right on the mouth and welcomed the anguish and desolation that goes hand in hand with it. I handed my life to you, I bled my heart out in your palms and you squeezed it dry till there was no more beating or pumping- any signs of recuperation.

Even as I fall to sleep for the last time, a slight tear rolls down my eye. In memory of all that was good and every second that you made me smile. The flashes of the good years run across like an old movie and I wish I could freeze time as I lay on the stony pathway bled and dried. You left no stone unturned and en cashed my misery and woo-ed me into believing that you were good for me. I'm no angel, you will pay for this. And you too will get your share of woe and misery from one you trust and love.
You too shall be kissed on the mouth by Death and left in a plight as sinister as mine.

Cursed.

Abandoned.

In the street all alone...
Cold and lonely feeling helpless...
I look around without any trace of help...
No recognizable faces in the crowd...

I fall down and bruise my knees...
A slight dusty breeze gushes across my face...
And yet no sign of help...
Abandoned... Why me?

The simpler way.

Fear- The ticking alarm clock in ones head that defines the boundaries and distances. Insecurities and spaces amongst the crevices of hope and wonder.

The images of the yesterdays which filled fear in our hearts then are the elixir of our strength today. That is an universal truth mostly looked past. Eddying about and darting that doesn't change anything, it worsens the wounds. So face up. I learnt. The simpler way.

Don't believe in angels of mercy and a Guiding ray of light. To be able to look in the mirror every morning and look oneself in the eye and not shirk away with shame and pity, that is being brave. I discovered.The simpler way.

Having the courage to stand tall against all odds and still not regret what was wrong then is optimism. I perceived. The simpler way.

Words flow perhaps with no emotions but what about the eye thats seen it all? And what about the words from that mouth itself. Choked and veiled under a mask of indifference and immunity. Strenght. I admire. The simpler way.

Loquacious adulations. But for the deserved? Lets discover. Yet again, The simpler way.
While the quiet child inside suffers and learns. The hardest way.

Up in flames.

“All things, oh priests, are on fire . . . The eye is on fire; forms are on fire; eye-consciousness is on fire; impressions received by the eye are on fire.”

- Buddha quote

It's hard. When you hold up only ashes of yesterday in an open palm and a light gush of wind blows it away. It's hard to decide whether you want to be angry at nature, relieved or just indifferent. What is the right thing to be? To just stay rooted to the ground wishing for an earthquake to awaken you from the dream you are seeing with your eyes open. how can you do justice to your head, heart, body and soul and still keep yourself believing?
Mistaking a good omen and misinterpreting... or looking at the glass half full... what is right? who is to say, who is to judge?

Mighty are those you say with conviction that their belief is strong and that nothing can shatter it. Hilarious in my dictionary. Since when are things really what they look like? Since when has deception and pretence anold fashioned game plan? who changed the rules and forgot to inform me? I still think life is not so predictable and that's what makes me want to wake up every morning. I'm not the most adventurous person in the world but a little serving of adventure and thrill gets my adrenaline pumping, yes.

Incoherence- the most powerful and absolute truth.

Absolution.

Sometimes I wonder if anything is absolute anymore... if there's still a right and wrong, good and bad, truth and lies... or is everything negotiable? Left to interpretation, gray amidst the patent black and white. Sometimes we're forced to bend the truth. Transform it. Because we're faced with things that are not of our own making. And sometimes... things simply catch up to us. Served to us, right in front and yet we miss it. The obvious truth to an oblivious eye. And at that time, we're scared, so scared that to face the truth becomes a burden only your conscience can allow you look at or look past. When that happens, you seem to fall apart, in your head, in your heart and every bit of reason that you pride yourself in believing in...

But sooner or later, we realize that truth is still absolute. Believe that. Even when that truth is hard and cold and more painful than you've ever imagined. And even when truth is more cruel than any lie ever told.