Winter Musings

I drank every word you said

Hoping that it would reach this empty space

A flicker of light

A glimmer of hope

Fighting with this ferocious wind.

Every second, it flips and turns

And almost dies down

But it survives

To light that glimmer of hope.

The cold emptiness of the dark and the warm luminous glow of light. The darkness is nothing without the light and vice versa. None lives without the other.

And maybe I’ve been away from it far too long. I was having a dream run. I ran and ran till the last molecule of energy drained out. Miles away from the chaos, little did I know that the chains are too tightly bound. One day or the other, I have to return to the harsh realities that have lived inside of me all this while.

Bidding for the right moment to grip me back into the monochromatic splashes of colour that are mine.

An injection that released the swirls of black, spreading seamlessly and homogenous with the platelets in my blood. It fights every disease and yet that is my only disease. I am but a prisoner to the substance that will never leave.

It will wait for a few turns of the hour glass and wait silently in the shadows. It won’t leave. Maybe, I’ve lived too long in the existence of these fumes to need the fresh air. Maybe, I need them to lead me to the places that I want to go.

I won’t fight you. I won’t retaliate. Mutiny is futile because I want you. The chains are bound so tight and my wings still need to heal and grow.

I’ll fly one day, flutter away in the tall sky to reach the moon and the burning stars. To become one with the visions that gave me sleepless night, to breathe in the scent of the moist dreams that simmer in my sight. So close, yet so far.

Source: Prachi Gohil ©

You know the destination but are unaware of the path.

The by-lanes

The cobbled pavements and sidewalks

Below the yellow haze of lamp posts and

 The slow dance of the fluorescent fireflies

The rustling leaves accompany you at every step

A path yet unexplored, the wind follows you wherever you go.

The wind has yet to see the nooks and corners of the place that you want to be.

Sit by the park bench and think about the furry white cat that leaps into your homely warm lap.

Why does it close its eyes and rest in comfort of this faceless stranger? Not worried about the monstrosities of the street life. Shut away in a zen-like calm… purring under its breath, you wonder - “What goes on in the mind of this queen?”

I want it to rain

I want it to snow

I want the icy gusty winds to make me wear that blue sweater.

I want to cuddle myself in the warm woolen strings

Hoping that the warmth will spread through my skin, muscles and bones

Reaching inside that place

That empty space where no one goes.

Hollow… it is all hollow.