Saturday, February 26, 2011

Friday, February 18, 2011







Brush strokes...

Each word of his was like this special stroke of brush that wildly painted with joy and madness...

He tried painting her out of the grey and black..the shades of griefs...
It was as if every word he spoke evoked an emotion that nurtured her, moulded her into a new body of life and hope...
With every smile, story, wish..countless nights spent in soul-stirring conversations...her soul seemed to be absorbing light a little more...like a desert finally drenched in rain.. like the mirage of happiness finally shaping into a real-life tangible structure...
An era that was but a phase that unfolded into a life-time of tale.. a short journey with trillions of steps ..highs and lows...smiles and tears..endless tears.. endless laughters..

The red rose finally seems so red...

(lot to scribble..an attempt to revive the passion of writing again...but somehow words fail me as usual...)