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The Awakening

Inspired by a recent Murakami book I read. I have often wondered how much of what we dream is actually real . I have always had stories running in my head , finally took the effort to pen it .

Ria had a long day at work , there wasn’t much to do and yet sitting in the confines of her cubicle for eight straight hours always left a heaviness in her soul.

She finally reaches home leaves her phone atop the shoe rack , pours herself a glass of cold milk and gets dressed for bed.

This was Rias safe haven , her small but very comfortable apartment . Netflix chilled beer and instant noodles had become her weekend friends.She has never had anyone over in a while . Probably because Ria started loving her own company.

It doesn’t take her too long to drift to sleep. But just as her conscious mind is turning off while the subconscious is coming alive there is a knock at the door.

She is thrown off from her drift. Accompanied by a sharp headache, anger and confusion . Who could it be at this time Ria wondered but whoever it was would be getting a sound hearing from her .

The knocking gets loud , Ria gets out of bed groggily and walks towards the hall but just then the knock gets aggressive; its no longer a knock . its a thump . constant synchronized thumping .

She freezes a few feet away from the door . Debating in her head if she should open the door or call someone for help .

Ria stands engulfed in silence , praying that the intruder walks away.

And just then her phone, the one left at the shoe rack starts ringing . She panicks and tries to reach for it . But its too late the intruder hears it , now certain that Ria is inside . She hears him trying to break open the door , playing with the door knob .

She tries hard to reach for her phone but feels paralysed out of fear .

The intruder has finally figured a way to open the door knob , its almost cracking open when she gets to her phone.

Its the alarm , 3 am . While she is in her bed covered in sweat. She snoozes the alarm and pledges never to watch a horror film before bed .

Ria sits up , taking deep breaths ,collecting herself together when suddenly there is a knock at the door.

Featured

Reveries of a stranger

Met a poet on the road

an ardor in those eyes..

traipsing about in the summer sky

in search of  his paradise.

Out lander that stranger; with his twisted smile..

trudging across  alleys, the wind by his side.

I thought I heard him call my name,

turned around..and to my dismay..

a bare passage  into the oblivion;

greets my delirious gaze.

© Toothfairy,2016

 

 

 

 

 

A cup of emotions

Early mornings of board exam prep when mum would wake me up at 3 am leaving me with a steaming cup of tea beside.

No matter the stress I would enjoy that cup watching the moon outside my tiny window bit by bit bidding goodbye.

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forward to Hostel days when the mess would serve tea in steel mugs at sharp 5 pm and I would wake my girls from their siesta even the ones who dont drink tea so I could get their extra cup . Together we would hurry along with a parle g packet,

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Cut to now , My tea and I stand beside the window overlooking the horizon where the beach and the cityscape compete for the sky. The mind multi thinking over a hundred things simultaneously, yet when the cup hits my lip all the noises go mute..

One cup of innumerable memories. Tea is definitely an emotion.

Colors of Patriotism

If there’s any place apart from a cricket stadium that gets your patriotism pumping , it’s the retreat ceremony at wagah border .

Approximately 45 mins from Amritsar we reached just in time to find decent seats. with the grand stand construction on at the time the general area appeared more chaotic than usual.

Soon the MC had us chanting ‘bharat mata ki jai’ with all our hearts ,using every bit of our vocal cord capacity ,each time emphasizing “humari awaz border ke us par tak pohanchni chahiye “

To my surprise he picks up a handful of women who volunteer to dance together and run around waving the indian flag.

This particular woman in saree with her face half clad running uninhibited with the flag will always be the picture that paints my mind when I think of my country and its people. A country of 1 billion with diversity in every aspect and yet united by the many colors of patriotism that we may believe in.

SAUDADE

You keep coming back to me..

Like the flu at summers end ;

I thought I had lost the key..

To the door that opens

your memory.

~

You keep coming back to me

Like the mold from winters eve ;

I thought I rid my home off it..

But here it lay again

beaming at ease .

~

You keep coming back to me

Like pieces of that broken glass.

I could swear I had them cleaned ;

yet , tiny bits poke around..

In hopes of having me bleed.

Sometimes I wish.

Sometimes I wish,

I could read your mind.

Dust the webs of tattered memoirs

left behind.

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Sometimes I wish

I could word, the loud silence

that fills our home at nights.

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Sometimes I wish,

I had know you from decades ago.

So I could see that smile ,

one I have known through pictures of old times.

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Sometimes I wish

You would love me..the way you loved him.

Wholly ,

Imperfectly ,

yet truly.

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Sometimes I wish

we could meet again ;

As strangers ,

over lattes , talking ..

about all that haunts us.

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Sometimes I wish ,

I could stop wishing .

But its the nature of our heart

To never cease hoping

for what if these were one day

to come true.

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©Toothfairy,2019

Dance with me

Have you found your rhythm yet? ” she was often times asked.

And her reply would always be the same, “I wait for it to find me.”

Somedays within the beats of the ocean waves, the bustling symphony of the city life,
or the silent choir of the mountains,
and on other days within a loved ones laughter.
She waits for that right rhythm to tune her life to;
until then,
she dances to each of them all.

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©Toothfairy,2019

Broken and Beautiful

I stop to admire , hoping to turn away soon ;

But something about that house made me gaze a while more.

Which is when she appears opening the door.

I told her this was a beautiful home

Beautiful?” She asks, “its damaged though”

Maybe” I say “but , those broken are beautiful too. “

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Image Credits : @poet_on_a_motorbike

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©Toothfairy,2019

Parallel Worlds

It has intrigued me, the thought of an alternate world with a different reality.. I may not be I..You may not be you.. different bodies different minds..and our mirrored souls

I fancy the idea of …

an alternate universe .

You , another mind ;

Me , another body .

Exploring unheard symphonies

Of Love unfettered .

Two old souls

In parallel worlds

Holding new destinies.

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©Toothfairy,2019