A Gift of Love - IGP.com

Who doesn't love receiving gifts? Be it on special occasions like your birthday, anniversary, Christmas or New Year, a gift is sure to put a smile on not just the receiver's face but the giver's as well. And the best thing about gifts is that you need not even wait for an occasion to give it. I have always loved the surprise element and gifts that arrive impromptu on my door step definitely tops my list.

When I came across Indian Gifts Portal, one of India's largest online gifts store, I was curious. Ordering a gift online without the hassle of a normal shopping experience, it offers a wide variety of gifts right from cakes, flowers, jewelry, electronic items etc. They also offer personalized gifts, a little something extra to make that special person, feel extra special. Why not surprise your Mom, Dad or friend? Do check them out for more gifting options. The prices are reasonable and most offer free shipping. There is something to be found for everyone, for all ages and occasions.  

They also ship internationally (USA, UK, Australia, Canada etc) and even have same day delivery network to over 300 cities in India. Forgot a loved one's birthday? Fret not, browse through the innumerable gift ideas available on their website and you are bound to come across something that will make them feel happy. There are also midnight delivery gifts which include an immense selection of cakes and beautiful flowers, leaving you spoilt for choice. 

Here is a picture of the butterscotch cake that I ordered via their website. It was delivered on the date as I requested. The cake was fresh, rich and moist, a gift from me to me :) Brownie points for the sheer decadence. Surely, one can indulge oneself! Another point worth mentioning is the customer service which is fast and excellent, helping you get through any glitches smoothly, should you face any. IGP is a website that I wouldn't hesitate to recommend; my experience with them has been a fulfilling one. Do let me know about your experience if you decide to shop with them.

I want to be...

...the froth of cream on your upper lip as you take that first sip of coffee.
...the tiny scar hidden behind your watch on the inside of your left hand.
...the mist from your breath that clouds the window, deep with longing.
...the first whiff of petrichor you inhale as it rains.
...the warmth of your faded blanket on your ice cold toes.
...the well thumbed page of your favorite book of poetry.
...the words that you bleed on to a page, black against white.
...the wind whipping against your face on a hill top.
...all this and so much more.

I want to be the love you deserve. Just let me.

Winter Musings

The past couple of days I woke up to a beautiful sight. Mist covered greenery through my window. Definitely one of the perks of staying in a flat are the gorgeous views that greet you from your balcony or windows, if you're lucky. Like the most of us, I'm guilty of reaching for the mobile even before opening my eyes. Instead of doing that, I tried listening to the   sounds from around as I woke up today morning. As cliched as it may sound, the chirping of birds is one of the best sounds to wake up to. 

The year is coming to an end with just a month to go. It's raining outside as I write this. December couldn't have started off on a better note. Being a bibliophile, one of the first things that comes to my mind when I think of December is A Christmas Carol. Who can forget the infamous Scrooge and his ghosts created by Dickens? Another happy memory is singing Christmas carols along with friends in the school choir group. Hanging huge paper stars on your porch was a much awaited event too. 

Experiencing a white Christmas is one of the things on the bucket list. That's what happens as a result of watching too many Hollywood movies during Christmas time, I guess. It gives you a lot of winter goals :) So, tell me, what are your favorite Christmas memories? 

Thankful Thursday #1

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Dear You,

I'm a firm believer that we meet people for a reason. Sometimes, quite simply they are lessons. Other times, if you are lucky enough, you find companions for life. You are one such person for me. We started out as friends and now you are so much more. 

I'm not going to bore you with the details, but I'm grateful for the patience you have shown me over the years. For not telling me I told you so, for resisting that urge when I went ahead and made my own mistakes. For listening to me rant for hours, crying and tearing my hair out in the process. Mostly, I'm thankful that you are just there for me. 

You have made me see what I have missed, focusing too much on the grays and not enough on the colors. Making me realize that there are very few things that a long bath and a good sleep won't fix. For your unending optimism and positivity that shines through in your words, for the amazing person you are, thank you! I'm not going to tag you here and turn this into another cheesy post. You know who you are :)

All my love, 

Truth or Truth?

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Lies. More and more of it. Like a deck made of cards. Hiding the truth. Always. Do we lie to protect ourselves and the ones we love? Or is it because it's easier than telling the truth? The truth that you know is going to hurt? 

The drafts folder of your inbox, however, tells a different story. Unsent mail overflowing. The ones that refrained you from hitting that send button. Is it because some people simply do not deserve to know your truth? But there it nestles, among spam mail and meaningless correspondence. All that you have told but not been heard. 

You don't hit the send button. Not yet, a voice whispers in your head. But nor do you have the heart to delete it. Someday, maybe. Nobody said that speaking the truth would be easy. It's got to be done, all the same. Even if it means standing alone. 

Battlefield

Your mouth tastes like regret and pain

In your eyes I see the scars that escaped your body 

I see you flinch when I hold you 

Don't you know all I want is to soothe your pain 

But I can't protect you from the world 

Your battles are your own, just like mine 

Imperfectly, we will fit together someday, like a jigsaw 

Till then I wait for you

Patiently, impatiently...

Soaked Thoughts

Poetry was the language we conversed in 

Neruda jostled with Plath and Tagore 

Debates I secretly enjoyed

And frosty nights were imbued with 

The warmth of conversations and hot chocolate 

Goodbyes were never said 

All that was left was silence 

As steely as the ripping of pages

From a much cherished book 

Today I stand drenched in rain 

Waiting for a bus that would probably never come 

Drenched to the bone, chilled to my soul 

How much longer, I wonder 

Before I give up and go back home... 

Delusion

Am I not the longing that fills your nights 

The cigarette smoke that floats in the air? 

The half drunk glass of whisky laced with regret 

Am I not in the invisible lines traced on the counter 

By your fingertips 

Is it not my name that escapes your lips?

Or in the music notes that drift in the background 

The memories that play hide and seek

In the deepest corners of your mind 

Or the lone droplets on your rain spattered windows 

Was it ever about me? Was any of it?

Or maybe I'm simply being delusional...

Colors of Sunset

As a little girl, my favorite kind of sunset were the orange ones. A golden globe of sun sinking into the blue sea. 

When I grew up and stepped into my teens, I loved the pink tinted ones. It was the color of my blushing cheeks, he said. 

But now, the ones that I crave the most are the bright yellow ones with a splash of fiery red. It reminds me of your smile, the kind that melts my insides, oozing warmth into my heart that I inevitably end up comparing to the molten chocolate lava cake I had. The kind that always reminds me of home. 

If I could capture your love into a single frame, this would be it, in all the myriad colors of sunset times infinity, bursting into my life, painting the vivid hues onto my skin. Sometimes, I wish you would see yourself through my eyes, just to know how very special you are to me. And someday, we shall watch the colors of sunset blend in, together. 

P.S. Overwhelmed with the love you all have showered on me on my last post. Thank you! Means the world to me :)

How I almost stopped writing

Of late, I don't feel the urge to pick up my  pen like before. It makes me think, have I really lost it? The one thing that I love more than anything else in this world, the one thing that kept me going all these years? I don't know. I like to think not. I prefer to believe that writing has not abandoned me completely. How can something that's a part of you be taken away?

I took to writing when I was going through one of the lowest phases of my life. Writing healed me, it was my therapy and I made some life long friends along the way. Some of whom are still there with me and some had to leave or I had to let them go. But the one thing that gave me hope through all of the curveballs that life threw my way was writing. I lost myself in the world of words. 

Though there have been days I have gone without writing a word, when I always came back, it felt right like home. Even now, there's a little nudge inside me to keep writing, to keep creating. I haven't been a prompt blogger, I haven't been replying to comments and I'm extremely sorry for all that. But thanks so much for having faith in me. 

It's been a tough time for me and as things get better, I hope to write more. To do justice to all the stories in my head. It would be easier to give up, shut down this blog, an idea that I have been toying with. But that would simply make me a coward, to shut down my voice for fear of being judged. I want to write, to speak what's on my mind, just like I used to. And even if I don't succeed, I'm definitely not going to stop trying. I owe it to myself, to the words that I have been gifted with, to the people who had faith in me even when I didn't. It took me a while to realize it, life may change but somethings are forever...

Reunited

It starts with a kiss, the kind that takes your breath away. The deliciousness of the surprise, the taste of your lover's lips. Peppermint and spice. 

It's been far too long. I want to cry out but I don't. It dies inside my throat and I concentrate on relishing the little time that we have. 

So much to say, so much to catch up on.  Never before have we been parted so long. My first love, my savior. Welcome back, Words. I have missed you so. More than I can say, more than you will ever know...

P.S. Howdy? I missed you all! 

Hiraeth

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How are you?

Your message blinks on my mobile screen. How am I? That has been a question that I have been asking myself of late. Couple of years back, you wouldn't have felt the need to ask me that, you would know how I was just by looking into my eyes. You would have been by my side and not on the other side of my screen.

After all, we are were best friends. You know of all the times Hagrid made me cry, you grumbled when you had to tag along with me on my book shopping sprees. I was the first one you dissected your favorite movies with. 'Blue is the warmest color' kept us awake talking about relationships and love for hours. 

Butterscotch was your flavor, chocolate was mine. You always knew how rainy days made me write bad, sappy poems. But life as we know it, changes. You got married, moved across oceans and countries to start a new life while I stayed behind. Our friendship was uncomplicated, untainted by love. 

Today, your display picture shows you kissing your new born daughter. She is cute, your little one. I can see that she will grow up to be like you. And in another, I see you looking at her fondly, that look that was reserved only for me. It now belongs to someone else. 

The day you left, you took a part of me with you. Inside my chest is a scooped out hollow where you used to be. I have been seeing someone for the past few months, but I know that he will leave soon when he sees the blankness behind my eyes. Some things and people can never be replaced. Drifting apart was only natural. Was it your fault or mine? Or why don't we take the easier route and blame it on destiny? 

You will never know about the dark nights I spent battling my demons, that rainy nights scare the hell out of me now and that writing love poems is a thing of the past, just like you. I may never get to hear from you about those sleepless nights and the joy of that first smile. Likes on your vacation pictures, a comment once in a while on my status updates, that's what we have turned out to be. 

I'm fine, I reply. And you?

The Stalker

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Aditi tried to ignore the heaviness inside her as she got dressed for the party. The text from Vivek was read, but not deleted. He wanted a break, that's what he had told her, that they were going too fast and he wanted time to think things over. The jerk. He didn't even have the guts to say it to her face. A text was all that he had sent. 

I hope we can continue being friends. 

How very convenient for him. She felt the hidden rage bubbling over, threatening to spill. She took her phone and deleted all the messages from him. Next she opened all her social media accounts and blocked him there too. He was just like the rest, it was her foolishness to think that he would be any different. He too had used her, and when he had his share of fun, she was discarded, unwanted, an afterthought.  

Never again, Aditi swore under her breath. She was done with men. She didn't feel like going out, not in her current state of mind. But she knew what would happen if she were to spend the night in. There would be pizza and binge watching sessions of one of her favorite TV shows. And then, there would be tears and she would go to sleep in her pajamas, weeping on the couch. 

Not tonight. She had a party to get to. One that she wasn't interested in going to in the first place. Two days back, she had made plans to spend it at home with Vivek, just the both of them. Well, look how well that turned out. No more plans either, she would go where life took her. She might as well make an effort and spend it with people and party music around her. 

The red dress she chose had a plunging neckline and the necklace she wore lay against her bare skin, the heart shaped pendent kissing her there. She dusted the bronzer on her skin, highlighting her features. The bronzer shimmered in the dull light as she turned. Her waist length hair lay in cascading waves on her back, the deep red lipstick was applied to perfection. Grabbing her purse and stepping into her six inch heels, she finally felt ready, a little like her old self.

The night breeze was cool and the traffic on the road that would normally have bothered her, was tonight oddly soothing in its familiar honks and noises. The party was in full blast as Aditi stepped inside. The music hit her head on in full force, and she allowed to be enfolded into its embrace, desperate to forget, eager to move forward. She saw a few friends and joined them, swaying to the music. It was too loud to talk and she was glad, the last thing she wanted was to answer awkward questions about Vivek.

After what felt like hours, but was probably just a few minutes, she felt the pain on her feet as a result of dancing in her too high heels. She made her way to the bar, to catch her breath and order a drink. Maybe it was the muted silence that greeted her in this corner of the pub, the sounds of the party seemed to fade away, or maybe it was her feelings that were finally catching up on her, she felt the sharp sting of tears. Closing her eyes, she tried to brush it away, aware that the mascara would run down her cheeks, giving her away. 

And all of a sudden, Aditi felt claustrophobic, the walls seemed to close in on her, her chest tightened, her breathing turned ragged. Her hands held on to the bar counter as she closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths. 

One, two, three. Breathe in, breathe out. 

This was what usually helped when she had one of these panic attacks. She had managed to keep it hidden from the world till now, allowing her walls to come down only when she was alone. They were increasing in frequency with each day, slackening her grip on reality. Her sweaty palms and labored breathing must have given her away, for the bartender was looking at her with concern etched on his face. She gave a feeble smile to show that she was all right and he turned back to mixing drinks with a wary look. He must be used to all sort of weirdos by now, she mused silently. 

She sipped the virgin margarita that she had been nursing for a while, feeling the sensation returning to her limbs when the same bartender pushed another one towards her. 

"I'm sorry, there must be a mistake. I did not order this," Aditi told him. 

"Oh, this one is already paid for. By the gentleman," he said with a slight nod of his head towards the far end. 

In the velvety darkness, it was next to impossible to see his face. All that she caught sight of was a towering silhouette that walked away, not even glancing her way to gauge her reaction. Who was he? Was he simply looking for a girl to pick up, to have fun with for the night? But if he was, why did he leave? 

Feeling puzzled, she turned back to the glass that the bartender had pushed across, and that was when she saw the note on the paper napkin, beneath it. The words written in some kind of marker, had started bleeding across, merging with the drops of condensation that slipped from the glass and onto the napkin. 

No man is worth those tears, Beautiful. No one. 

Was this some kind of joke? Or did she really look that pathetic? Aditi had prided herself on managing to hide her feelings from the rest of the world all this while. Crumbling the tissue and taking a final sip from her drink, she resumed to the dance floor, unaware of the turn of events that her life was to take from that night. 

... to be continued. 

Childhood sweetheart

I have seen you as a wobbly kneed boy

As you ran behind me pulling my pigtails 

Throwing little stones far into the middle of the pond 

Seen you climb trees, taught me to ride my bicycle 

Skipping classes together, muffled giggles

Sharing lunch boxes, snatching away what was already yours 

But somewhere in the middle, we lost each other 

I moved across cities, you stayed behind 

The next time we saw each other, the boy had gone 

In place was a man, with a deep voice and scruffy voice

I felt intimidated, distant 

Drifting apart was only natural, hurting was all the more so 

Today once again, you are there by my side 

Rushing in when I needed you the most 

Holding my hands, tightening your grip

Once again, I saw a man in you 

And no, it wasn't love, it was kindness that drew me back to you 

Not just for me, but for the whole world 

Your ability to empathize with others 

Feeling their pain, making it yours 

As for love, it would come later

Creeping in between phone conversations 

And late night strolls 

Through the books exchanged 

A new story that I had begun to write, but the beginning always remains the same

A childhood sweetheart... 

The woman who worshiped Serpents

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She was the woman who worshiped serpents. Some called her a witch who practiced dark magic. Others claimed to have seen her walking naked near the serpent shrine some nights. I had seen her only from far, she looked the same now and many years earlier when I had seen her for the first time as a boy. Her skin was dusky, her flowing hair swayed with her hips, an unruly mass of oiled black curls. She was seen placing milk near the shrine at twilight, for the snakes to feed on. 

Vasugi. The woman who held mystery in her eyes and the only one who enticed me with her charms. Dark magic? I do not know. Nor do I care. In many ways, we were both misfits, sticking out like a sore thumb in a small village of like minded souls. I was married for a short while, till my wife decided to run away with an old lover. They said it was because I couldn't give her a child. Impotent. The jibes continued to follow me wherever I went. 

That night, I don't know what led me to her hut. Was it the rain that threatened to drown out my entire village that led me to seek shelter near the shrine? I like to call it destiny. There she was drenched to the bone, petting a snake that lay crawling by her feet. What happened next is still unclear to me. She got up and went, after one look at me, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Was she so arrogantly sure that I would follow her?

The inside of her hut was sparsely furnished. A tiny cot at the corner, some vessels in another. A few placed strategically to catch the rain water leaking from the thatched roof. She took my hands and placed it on her bare skin, skin that should have been cold, but was burning like fire. I traced the contours of her face, the hollow in her neck, her closed eyelids. I kissed the raindrops in her hair. 

That night, in her, I lived. In her mystique depths, I finally felt like a man. A year later, she gave birth to my daughter. With her curls and my toothy grin. We still attract looks and hushed whispers wherever we go. But I was no longer termed impotent. There were others who said that the child was not mine, but a boon that was bestowed upon her by the snakes. As for her, she turned a deaf ear to them and continued to worship the serpents, the only God that she believed in. For me, she was no longer just the woman who worshiped serpents. She was the air that I breathed. 

The writer who couldn't write

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Words. They run around on the inside of her skull. Random. Haphazard. The moment she tries to string them together in a pearl necklace of a sentence, they scatter all around. Silently. Some run under her bed, some go into hiding behind her bookshelves. She knows there is no use going hunting, they were stubborn. Much like her. They would reveal themselves only if they felt like it. 

The cursor blinks on the blank screen. She feels claustrophobic, her hands grow clammy, slick with sweat. She shuts down her laptop and tries to drown herself in her books, in the faint hope of finding some form of inspiration. But again, they escape her, the words going above her head. 

Is this the writer's curse, she wonders, that when the muse disappears, along with some memories, her words would betray her as well and leave with him too? Or was it her punishment for loving too much too soon? For now, the only option that she has in order to make a semblance of her life is to go back to where it all started. To go back home...

Rendezvous

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Her hair is shoulder length, she wears a backless lemon-yellow dress. He's dressed a little more formally, in a full sleeved shirt. Are they on a first date? But the way he cuddles up to her, gently caressing her already smooth hair, kissing the strands, tells me otherwise. 

He clicks her picture on his phone, finding a reason to scoot over closer to her to show it to her. Are they colleagues ? Having a fling? My mind rules out the possibility that they are married. 

I wonder what the future has in store for them both. Will he be the one to do the dumping later on? Will she be the broken one nursing a broken heart or vice versa? Will there be ego clashes and betrayals in the near future? Or will they perhaps have their happily ever after? 

And the hopeless romantic in me wins, over the realist. For once.  

Z - Zahra

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I see your condescending look 

When you see I'm still childless at thirty

I see the pity in your eyes 

When you are quick to judge 

I may decide to have a child or I may not

I may be fighting my own battles 

Or I may be childless by choice 

But your opinion is the last thing I need

Next time you ply me with details of your offspring

Please know that I'm only being polite 

When I listen to things that I can't relate to 

That makes me want to stifle a yawn or two

Sure, it's a miracle of life that you created 

That doesn't mean I have to agree 

Rather than creating miniature versions of you

Make them better, best versions 

Give them the freedom to think 

Of their own without imposing your thoughts

Guide them, but don't stifle 

What does she know, she's not a mother 

I can almost hear you think 

Well, it doesn't matter, does it?

Just like how I never asked for your opinion, 

Yet you still gave me yours

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

Y - Yasmin

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Her hands are wrinkled and gnarled. There are more streaks of white than grey in what's left of her thin hair. She walks with a slight stoop, a result of too long hours spent bent over the kitchen floor. 

Each day, she waits, for a glimpse of a loved one. Every day she wakes up in hope, never giving up no matter how many days pass by alone in the old age home where she spends with other people her age. People who are discarded casually after use, when looking after them becomes a burden for the children that they love more their life. She does not hold any resentment in her heart, she knows they will come. 

For me, she is beauty; she is strength. She is a warrior, a mother, a grandmother. She is the universe. For me, she is love. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

X - Xenia

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The day you made me yours, I gave you everything. Body and soul. I never held back. Love, illogical, stupid, can't-live-without-you love, did that to me. My grey world was suddenly pink. The flowers smelled a little sweeter, the rain drops on my windowpane told me stories, my words turned into art. 

And when you left, a part of me went missing too. I searched for it everywhere; in the scent of your clothes that you left behind, inside your tea mug, on the couch that still carried the imprint of your body, the books that still bore your handwriting.  

It was only later that I realized that what you robbed me of. It was innocence. I would never trust again. And even when I discovered love a second and even third time, the ghost of your betrayal held me back. All it took was years of tear stained pillows and months of therapy and a bunch of friends that I now call family to feel a little bit like my old self again. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

W - Wren

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my words roaming freely no italics no punctuation no rules in this game what an eye sore you are thinking yes I can feel it but just this once let me be unconventional what I have been scared of surprisingly it feels good to be raw I don't know if I will ever attempt this again just like how some things in life must not be experienced twice it always loses charm the second time you see just like how some books must never be attempted a second time the magic you felt coursing through your veins is maybe a distant memory but one that refuses to fade in a world that follows rules to the dozen let me break free for now at least and in this moment I feel invincible I feel free

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

V - Vaidehi

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I want to print out the words you have sent me. And allow my fingers to roam freely over them, the way I will never be able to do on your body. I want to feel the ridges and callouses, the indentations and mystery on them, discover it all for myself. For this is probably all I will ever have. Your words on a page. 

But no, I can't even risk that. What if someone sees those words and realize it's all you? That it has always been you. I mustn't. Like so many of secrets that are floating in this world, rocking in coffins, some rotting, shattering like bones, ours too must die a painful death. You have never been one to take risks, playing it safe, not once letting your mask slip. 

Calculated moves. 

We belong in different worlds, hoping to cross over the boundaries seems to me like wishing for the moon when I was a little girl. Our love is forbidden, after all. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

U - Udipta

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Instagram followers - 2,384, Twitter followers - 4,982, Facebook page likes - 20,438. 

Likes and comments in hundreds. Thousands of wishes on her birthday, virtual hugs and kisses. Tap, tap. Moral support for each of her status updates, ego boost for her profile pictures. 

Yet when she lay in the hospital bed, physically hurt and mentally bruised, not one of them turned up except for the couple of people who were not even active on social media. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

T - Tara

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Flitting in the corners of my mind 

In the spaces between your fingers 

Memory glides in, filling in that empty space

A bygone era, good times and bad 

Teaching me something, always 

Yet it's the ghost of the ones gone sour

That haunt me still, keeping me awake

In crowded rooms and on starless nights 

The slimy wet memory that 

Makes you break out in a cold sweat

Or the smile of an old friend 

Lighting you up from inside 

Broken glasses, stained fingers 

Swollen lips, secret letters 

That swing in the corner of our park

Where we used to sit, holding hands 

Let me go back once more 

Experience it all over again 

Even those tears that were spilt 

Just to feel your hands 

Trace those salt tracks on my cheeks...

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

S - Sasha

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Sasha took a deep drag from the cigarette dangling on her fingertips, inhaling it in, feeling the smoke fill her lungs. Though she called herself the occasional smoker, the need to burn through a packet per day had turned into the norm. 

She liked to blame it on the stress that was eating her up. The constantly criticizing boss at work. The back stabbing friend. The ex who still gave her nightmares. So many reasons. One more toxic than the other. It was funny how it was easier to blame others than own it up herself. 

Life sucked for her, that was how she felt. There would always be one thing or the other going on and she would feel the tingle start to creep up on her and her fingers would involuntarily reach for the pack that she kept on her work desk. 

She raised enough eyebrows as it is with the bold colors she wore and her don't-care attitude. But this time, today, she knew was different. This time, she would try genuinely, for herself. Sometimes, the only person that would stick by your side through it all is yourself. And sometimes, that was enough. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

R - Reva

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I sit down to write and my mind is completely blank. Writer's block, a lazy excuse I read somewhere. So many things I want to say and yet I'm unable to capture the beauty of it the way I want. That's when I think of you. And my words flow...

Your skin smooth like silk, your lips warm and inviting, your arms that crush me against the length of your body. I can write a whole book on the way you make me feel and still find it incomplete. Or maybe I should write a saga on our story. 

There are things I wish to tell you in person, things that I want to say aloud as I look into your eyes. But as always, the words refuse to leave my mouth, getting stuck somewhere in between my throat that I swallow it in haste. 

Would I ever be able to tell you how much you mean to me? Will I ever have the courage to do so? Or will I be labelled as a freak of nature for daring to love you? Just because I'm a woman like you?

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

Q - Qurbani

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Have you heard the sound of a heart breaking? It's as silent as the first drop of rain on your cheeks. It's as soft as the morning dew under your bare feet when you step outside at dawn, while rest of the world is asleep. 

Heart aches, heart breaks. Does it all feel and sound the same? Is it the sound of melancholy when you sit alone watching the rain pour down? Or is it the deafening silence that replaces the presence of a loved one?

For me, it was the sound of my front door banging shut when you left. It's tremors were felt when I saw you go back to her, the one who broke your heart. It reverberated through my entire body like a physical ache. I knew right at the beginning I could never replace her, but I was there for you, it was the least I could do.

You wanted more, you always did, I was never enough. For you, I was just a friend. You can break my heart all you want, you know I will always welcome you back home when you need me. But tell me one thing, a temporary fixture, was that all I was? A place to linger, but never stay? 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

P - Pournami

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Medical or Engineering? 

What would you prefer? 

These were the only options that I was given

What about the arts? 

That's where my passion lies

You can't make a living out of a hobby 

I was admonished, get a proper degree 

Forced to take up a field I had no interest in 

I slogged away for years 

I graduated, got a well paying job 

Worked promptly from 9 to 5

Doing seemingly satisfying work 

But at night I took out my brushes 

And I turned to my passion 

To create, to breathe, to live 

And tried not to notice

 That twinge of regret I felt otherwise...

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

O - Ophelia

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Things went from bad to worse over a period of few months. True, they had known each other for a long time but tying the knot meant taking on more responsibilities. It meant sharing not just the good things, but the bad stuff as well. 

The blame game started soon after. Egos grew bigger, till they touched the sky. Coming back down to earth seemed almost like an impossible feat. Bank accounts doubled, tripled and the size of their hearts grew smaller and smaller. So small that it was difficult to even find place for the love that they shared initially. 

Until one day, she grew fed up with all the fighting and whispered those magic words, one that neither of them had bothered to utter since the day they had started living together. 

"I'm sorry", Ophelia whispered. 

Maybe it didn't solve all of their problems. Maybe all it did was buy them a little more time. Or maybe, just maybe, they learned to take the first steps together in forgiving each other in a long journey.

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

N - Natasha

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Look into my eyes when you talk to me 

Keep your phone away, so will I 

Let't talk about things that matter for a change 

Not just the bills to be paid or the outstanding EMI 

Let's go on an impromptu trip 

For old time's sake, couple of clothes and faith

And let's escape reality 

Let's forget there are chores to be done 

And travel to a place where the earth meets the sky

Where the sea has endless waves sweeping us away 

And stay in a cosy place that has no wi-fi 

At night we will read by the fireplace 

Listen to all those albums that we have 

But have been too busy to hear all this while

Those long hikes that we thought we outgrew 

Can we try it one more time?

Take a plunge and try doing things

We have been putting off for a long time 

Ice-cream cones at midnight 

Books that have been piling on our shelves

Try not to think too much 

And let's do this one last time

For you, for me, for us

For what we once were...

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.

M - Mikaela

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You have 10 new notifications. 

The message popped up on her phone screen first thing in the morning. A few likes and comments on her recent picture. After checking and replying to it, she scrolled through her home page and it was soon filled with updates from the various people on her friends list. An old classmate had gotten married and she proudly showed off her marriage pictures. She clicked a like. They had hardly exchanged two words since connecting on social media, but wouldn't it be rude not to even like the picture?

She scrolled down again. A colleague had given birth and the update showed a beaming mother with her hands around a tiny bundle. Again, a like. Scrolling down, more happy pictures. She felt the familiar sense of dissatisfaction creeping upon her. What was she even doing with her life when all around her people seemed to be living their dream lives? She hated herself for thinking the way she did. 

She went to the settings tab on her profile and clicked on the deactivate profile option. Confirm deactivation of account? 

Was she sure? No, she wasn't sure. Social media had helped her in connecting with some of her good friends and keeping in touch with them, it had also given her a voice when she wanted to be heard. But more often than not, her voice got drowned in millions of others and it turned into a disturbing noise, nothing more. She clicked on no and went back to the home screen on her phone and uninstalled the little blue icon there. She was done. And now, maybe she can carry on. Or she could at least try. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.