Just

Sometimes, you just feel like writing, merely for the sake of it. You don't really have anything in particular to write about. Your mind is lazily thinking about the little pleasures of life(without giving you any specifics) and you are simply putting pen to paper at a breakneck speed and letting the ink flow. You have absolutely no idea about anything but you still continue writing, maybe just to acknowledge the moment. You ransack your heart for inspiration, and there amongst the clutter, you happen to stumble upon a tiny gleam of unadulterated joy. Just the tiniest amount, to give a little curl to your lips.

Well, that was it. Your mind begins to wander as you start to retreat to your lazy-bum groove. You read whatever you have written so far and it's basically bullshit, but you don't really mind. You had your moment at that crazy writing speed and the worm-like words(your handwriting) will stand a testament to that. You know you have to stop soon. You have to get closure for the vibe that just passed. It's time for you to sign off. Ciao!

A Journey Through The Night

  It was a clear navy blue sky with a few tiny stars and a distant pale white crescent shrouded in misty mysteries, calm, serene and silent, illuminating the sleeping fields dotted with random trees, the grasslands and the endless stretches of seeming nothingness. A train was seething right through the middle of the wilderness, shattering the silence with it.

  A lonely soul with his head on the window of the train, the slightly cool wind ruffling his hair. A pair of bespectacled searching eyes while a Pink Floyd song eased into his brain. A brief stop at a station, a third person's view of the hurries of the worried life, and he knew it was a time of likable loneliness, a time in the company of oneself, a chance to peek inside.

  He could feel himself breathing. A sense of freedom reverberated through his body. He had left everything behind. He had left the nonsense. He knew he wasn't running away from it, no, he wasn't naive to think that, but in that particular time frame, he felt detached like a soul that had attained salvation. There was nothing to bog him down, no one could pull him back or obstruct his path. He was moving forward, undeterred, like a river that flows down a mountain with zealous carelessness.

  He had all the time in the world to ponder and to question. He could look at his life so far, in the trees and the stones that ran past him in the opposite direction. He had no regrets. He felt calm and peaceful as a grateful surge of relief aerated his spirit. He looked at the horizon, an occasional dotted illumination of habitation against the darkness of night. He closed his eyes, soaked in the moment of unbound liberty, and smiled to himself, at the realization of the final stop, the promise of the destination, the ecstasy of the journey.

The Flickering Flame

The 8 am extra class, weekend movie trip, electronics assignment due for next week, midnight Maggi party, practice with the dance crew, 2 shots of Real Guava Nectar, sleeping in the lecture hall, evening chat sessions, watching him from the corner of the eye. Pause.

She was lying on her bed, her curly hair scattered all around her head. Her endless stream of thoughts had suddenly been disrupted by him.

He’s such an idiot, the laziest soul on this planet. Always soaked in deodorant, he doesn’t even bath daily. I’ve to stop thinking about him.

She had to stop the distraction. She could smell a niner this semester. She just had to stick to the plan, and thinking about him certainly wasn’t a part of it. She sat up, pulled back a stray strand of hair behind her ear and took out her iPod.

Damn! Plain White T’s! Why do they have to sing such romantic songs?

This has to be a conspiracy. It can’t be him. He is yet to utter a single word to me…except that awkward moment when he asked me for an extra pen, and he didn’t even return it. Always ready with a stupid smile…such a disarming stupid smile. Whatever! Enough! Peace.

Something beeped. She grabbed her mobile. The idiot had sent her a forward.

P.S: 'She' is a girl. She’s not so fond of her name. She’s shy, frank, straightforward, independent, moody, crazy, courageous, intelligent, strong, reserved and pretty, among other things. She’s unique, and trying really hard not to think about him.