“The only problem is that you would never understand me.
*sigh*
You never did. Maybe one day, when you do understand what I felt for you or how much I cared for you, then you might realise my worth. But till then, all of it seems useless and I know it’s not your fault. It’s just that I am too sensitive for you.”
She remained silent with her head bowed. Her loose black hair fell over her shoulder covering half of her right cheek. Her thoughts were hopping in her mind. They were playing around. And they were not sanguine. Each thought had a tinge of sourness filled by his words and was wrecked by his fiery looks. It was aching. But she remained silent.
He continued saying something and something and something. He kept throwing ashes of their burnt love right on her face. She did not respond or rather her heart did not respond. But her senses did. An evil drop, corroding the love she had for him, stepped out and she quickly ran a finger, wiping it out through her kohl-ed eyes. No, he did not notice. Why would he, anyway? Or why wouldn’t he? There was no answer.
Feeling helpless and dejected, she carried her bruised yet numbed heart in her hands and started walking. She wanted to say a lot of things but did not. Going a little farther, she gathered pieces of hope and faith and turned around. She turned around to have a last look of their carvings together but amiss this she forgot a little thing....that life always comes with a 'don’t-expect-anything' tag. Huh...a silly girl, she was.
The bench behind was empty, mirroring all the answers, she once hunted and echoing all the untold truths, she once repelled to hear!
lot of pain came through.. dark it was.. good work!
ReplyDeleteThe bench is still empty, ready to be occupied… the hope you gathered at the last glimpse should last until you get to sit there again :P
ReplyDeletesad post it was... :|
ReplyDeletei liked the 2nd pic a lot.. :) its nice..n hey thanks for followin... :)
It can't be true.. ! how you got this? This is my love story, my life.. aahhh, I loved this piece of artistic work.. I'm coming back here, you caught me :D :)
ReplyDelete@ Maithili
ReplyDeletePain is good, sometimes. Makes us realise the importance of being in a happy state of mind.
thank you!! :) :)
@ deeps
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for dropping by and sharing your views. :)
@ Anoop
ReplyDeleteThank you!! :)
And it's all my pleasure!
@ Rachit
ReplyDeletecall it a coincidence! :)
and thanks a lot for following. I'm glad you liked this piece. And my blog too!! :) :)
It is really a quiet quiet affair when a heart is breaking. A storm that seems quiet on the outside when the world inside is being torn apart into shards that will pinch too hard.
ReplyDeleteNice read.
Cheers,
Blasphemous Aesthete
“Oft expectation fails, and most oft where most it promises; and oft it hits where hope is coldest; and despair most sits”
ReplyDelete- William Shakespeare.
Got nothing more to say or express. And that last line on your post probably speaks much more than the whole post; life, it is.
Wonderful, only if it's a fiction.
@ Blasphemous Aesthete
ReplyDeleteYeah..that's true.
Thank you for dropping by! :)
@ Sourav
ReplyDeleteyep...it is a fiction!
Thank you. :)
melancholic in a strange sort of way. Could feel the ache though. Great writing!
ReplyDeleteThank you for appreciating it. :)
ReplyDeleteLot of pain coming through the writing... Coincidence it could be, that I too have been similar past...
ReplyDeleteGood Work, nice language, great blog... Yet to read others...
Thank you, Sai.. :)
ReplyDelete