Breathe.

Break bricks around you

Move out of the labyrinth

Breathe once and live twice.

*****

Written for : Haiku Heights

Image Courtesy : deviantart

Check Your Mailbox, Life. (please!)

My Super-Duper-And-Amazingly Dear Life,

Firstly, I want to apologise for not being in touch for so long. I just never realised the right time to write to you (not a good excuse, I know). But today, I thought to give you some updates about how I have been or what all has happened since the beginning of ’11. Well, I’ve been really good. A lot has happened (like you don’t know) and I am happier than ever.

The last time I wrote to you, I was really disappointed. So much so that I opened the complained box and blurted everything out. And also asked requested you to do something about it. Luckily, my first attempt brought good and refreshing outcomes. You switched on the bulb of happiness on my miserable path and everything turned clear and blissful. With every passing day, I got happier. If January was good then February was better and then March was even better and so on.

I feel like a new 'me' was born with the dawn of this year. And it is miraculous. My perception regarding many things changed or rather improved. I feel more mature, like I have been upgraded to a new improvised level where life is led in a totally fantastic manner and where everything works under one rule (read my rule) which is “Make your life worth rewinding”. And yes, I abide by it, absolutely.

And needless to say, I am enjoying every bit of it. I am having a real good time. My college re-opened this week. And here I am writing as a sophomore, not a fresher anymore...ha!

Anyway, this is it for now. I’ll write to you more often. God promise!

And yes, the last thing which I want to say is....THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Here comes a tight hug for you. ^_^

Love,

Vinati, the matured one. (Please mind!)

******

P.S : Oh by the way, my baby is a year older now. Yay!

Happy 'First' Birthday, Mirage!!!

(A little too dramatic..eh?)

If Only Rains Could Heal.

It is 12:30pm by the clock and dark ghostly clouds have gathered outside. Her kids have gone to school and her husband is out of town on a business trip for a few days. She makes hot coffee for herself, opens the door of her balcony and feels the cool breeze brushing against her face and ruffling through her auburn hair. After a busy morning, she finally gets time to read the letter of her elder brother.

Hey

How have you been, my sweet little sister? Have you forgotten me or what? It’s been so long since you came and gave me a visit. How is my little niece and nephew? And how is Armaan? You told me about his new job last time. Did he make it to the Additional Director’s post?

You know what sis, Neha gave me a beautiful surprise on my birthday. She gave me a silver plated candelabrum on the base of which ‘T N’ for Tarun and Neha, is inscribed. Isn’t that awesome? I loved it, absolutely. She is such a sweetheart. And by the way, she was apologising for not being able to talk to you the last time you called. :)

So much has happened in the last few months. I have started working on a new project. Neha helps me in it. It’s good to have a supporting hand by your side all the time...right?

Anyway, I’ll tell you the details of my project only when you give me a visit as I hope that by then I would probably have made much progress on it to tell you more.

Hope to see you soon, Auraya. Take care!

Love,

Tarun

xoxo

She sighs and goes to the balcony. It has started drizzling and she hears the pitter-patter of the drops on her roof. She stands there for a while, closing her eyes and feeling the delicate scent of the weather.

A tear trickles down her right cheek. Like always, the bag of hope with which she began reading the letter, had worn to shreds. She folds the letter and keeps it in her pocket. “One day, everything would be okay. This is a hard time going and nothing lasts forever. It will pass soon.” She says in a soliloquy, wiping off her tears. She is confident that her brother would come to terms with reality and that he would soon walk out of that asylum which has held him in its claws since his wife, Neha died.

******

Written for: The Writers Lounge - Monsoon Madness

Word Count: 417