Forgotten Memories

There is a time loneliness sets in, not from the people around me but from the ones inside me. Those are the moments I seek the pleasure of writing, and some of the pieces find their way into this collection.

A Bit Too Late



I move through the plain fields, the grass glowing beneath my feet in the sparkling moonlight. Hem of my dress occasionally hinder my progress, restricting my movement. My eyes are fretful, searching for the pleasure. I am starved, lonely and desperate. My lips are parched and my eyes are sunken. I do not even resemble the shadow of the woman you had once desired. Every step I take is an effort in a direction I am not sure of. My footsteps echo in my head, piercing the soothing silence. I gaze at the moon which is playing hide and seek with the clouds. It blesses me with light and a cool caress on my wasted skin. The soft cotton clouds are a shapeless veil, fluttering innocently with the wind. They stroke the moon’s face in an undistinguishable emotion.
I stop at the edge of the creek, my breath coming in shallow bursts. The wind is now cold on the droplets of sweat on my arms. I feel my knees buckle as I drop on the bank. My dress is soiled. And so are my hands. I feel my hair create a curtain around my face and I bow it in defeat. I raise my eyes for the last time, using the last ounce of energy I have. And that is when I see you. Far away almost at the horizon, I see you ride towards me. My mind tells me that it is an illusion but my heart refuses to believe. I feel my lips stretch into a smile as I see your figure grow larger and larger in the moonlight. The beauty of the silver landscape is nothing compared to the relief I feel now.
My outstretched arm slowly descends and finally gives into gravity. My spine crumbles under effort and I roll into the damp grass. My eyes are the last of the senses to stop working as your silhouette keeps broadening every second. My prince is a bit too late.

For someone far far away


Between the shades of grey I move
walking past the shrines and graves
I paint you from my dreams 
I hear you from my thoughts
Far away yet bright like a star
You are spek of happiness bizarre
Drawing strength from you I move
Among the shades of grey and white


This was written for somebody I don't know yet am rather fond of. I hope it made him happy. :)

Memoirs Of A Geisha

I am reading this book currently. Its one of my favorites now. I simply love the style of writing. for once I am obsessed with writing in first person. Secondly I find the writing very calm and serene, not giving in to emotions or situation. I like that monotony. I guess I have always been a fan of monotony simply for the sake of security it provides. Anyways, coming back to the book.
It doesnt have a grand plot or anything but just seems to flow with a finite direction. At many points I fail to understand the way protagonist's mind functions. It is on the occasions when her profession collides with her inner self. But then isn't it boring if we could predict every behaviour and reaction? 
Also it portrays a human's ability to protect an innocent part of themselves even when they have indulged in every kind of wrong doing. The profession of the girl required her to use every ounce of wit she possessed for survival, lie at every turn of life. Yet she nurtured her desire for the Chairman, away from every other part of herself.
I also adore the cover of this book. It's heartbreaking to see something so beautiful.
I wonder that's what we all do, striving all our life for one cause. Does the elimination of the goal take away our life? Or is it possible to exist without any longings?