They scatter away

As soon as I open my eyes

They scatter away –my dreams

No matter how hard I try

I can’t put my finger on them

The good, the bad, the ugly

As soon as I open my eyes

They scatter away

The scenes that played out, the memories, fade away

The feelings remain

The bad ones stay a bit longer

There are so many of them

And all so vivid, but

As soon as I open my eyes

They scatter away

I lie in the sandpit

Every grain has a story

I try to collect them

As soon as I close my fist

They scatter away

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Of words, stories and assignments

While going through a pile of papers I found something interesting A year ago, when I joined my first year classes, I got an assignment in creative writing on the first day itself. We were given 5 words and we were asked to build a story around them. There was no constraint on the word usage but I chose to stick to as less as possible. The words were: DOOR, AXE, MIRROR, DRAIN, LEGS Here are the two versions that I wrote: #1: His legs grew heavier as he unlocked his front door . He looked tired and drained out but his clothes still smelled of his favourite AXE deodorant. Although he was still in his early thirties, the mirror reflected a different story. All he needed right now was a nice cup of coffee. #2: She was woken up in the middle of the night by a noise. It was like an axe hitting a metal. At first she thought she was dreaming but then she heard it again. Mustering up all her courage, she moved into the hall. Something on her right moved and ...

High Spirited

I am a ghost. But I don’t live on a tree. No not in a graveyard either. I just like to roam around. I don’t have much powers, just the few basic privileges of being stuck in the middle of life and the ultimate moksha . Honestly, I like it here .It’s fun. During the day time, I generally sit in a coffee shop that I could never afford when I was alive. I sit and observe people who can. They are boring. Every Friday I catch the latest hindi flick at the multiplex. Nothing great these days, I tell you. Last week I dozed off even before the interval. If you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll tell you a secret. Sometimes, during the daytime, I go visit my old school. Yes! to attend lectures.!!!!! The miss the stupid subjects that were of no use to me in my later life. I especially like solving maths problems-algebra and geometry that I studied in 10 th standard. The syllabus has changed now. Oh but please don’t tell this to anyone. None of my ghost friends know about this. Yea...

White

WHITE It’s the colour of mourning. It's the colour of celebration. It's the colour of peace. It's the colour of happiness. It's pure, calm, serene, and honest. It’s the colour of the first meal that baby takes. It’s the colour of maturity on a person’s head. It’s the colour of the moonlight. It’s the colour of the clouds. It’s the colour of the sea foam. It’s the screechy chalk on the black board. It’s the clean surface of the white board. Mixes with every other colour to give it a new identity. It makes red go pink. It turns the black into grey. And it's just White *********************************** What comes to your mind when you think of White.. Write back…

As Alive As Dead

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