Hello twenty fifteen.

Less than an hour to new year.

Peppy party music reverberates somewhere in the distance, in an otherwise calm night. I am tucked in my blanket, hunched over the laptop screen with cold fingers on the keyboard, thinking of words, syllables, sentences to define what 2014 was to me. This ritual to reminisce what a year brought to us and what we gave in return, it is therapeutic and it gets even better when you prepare to bid goodbye to another set of memories, to put a final full stop at the end of another chapter, in the most peaceful manner.

But this time, instead of looking back, I plan to look ahead.

Sure, I had a lot of exceptionally awesome moments this year, but what is gone is gone. They have been placed neatly in my head. It is time to welcome a whole new bunch of memories that are waiting for their turn to treat us with love and hate.

So a very happy new year to you dear reader. Thank you for sticking with me through various dramas of life.

Oh and one last thing, ever since I stepped into law college, I barely got time to sit down and binge read at a stretch. But now as my college is almost over, I have decided that I will read a lot!!! No excuses, nothing.

yes, it's my resolution.

My dear friend Raaji from Writings For Life asked me to share a list of books I read this year. Pretty less, I know. But let the new year come!

__________

P.S: Feel free to share your list of books you read in 2014.

I am the spring.

I will always be your right path.

______

Find your voice.

__________

Months ago, I found this very creative art form by Austin Kleon, a writer and artist from Texas. It is called Newspaper Blackout poetry. All you have to do is take the daily paper and find a poem hidden among words, lines and spaces. Challenging yet so much fun, that is what it is. And I'm glad I finally tried it.

Mad race.

I have slowed down

but i'm still

running,

making my every step,

my every breath

count

in this unfair mad race

that i am a part of

since the day i opened this heart

for you, for him, for her

for them to watch it start

pumping sense 

to my brain and then

steer it

again, again,

time and again

amidst a crowd of hopes

crushed by weak, ailing feet

of envy, of lust,

of betrayal, of greed

running together in semblance

of monsters and angels.

Yes, there are dreams too

there are things like

rains and rainbows,

poems of love and fires of the stars

but they found their home long ago

leaving behind

just these numbed scars.

And now the light is yellow,

we are all on our toes

ready to run faster..

faster than before.

So let's take a moment here

and feel sorry for ourselves.

How beautifully this mad race

has turned us into a mess.

________

Time tells the truth.

I have known you more in your silence than in your words,

your beguilingly pleasing

words.

_______

Crossing stories

It has become an unsolicited ritual

to watch the i in me

prying scrupulously, a thousand moments

and a million stories

with a hushed hope to find its own,

one day.

______

Picture Source

To be alive and stagnant at the same time, is the saddest thing.

There is a piece of madness

         floating furtively along

         the chapped lines 

         of my daily chores

         and that alone is enough

to keep me from falling apart.

__________

Picture Source: deviantart

This.

“For poems are not words,

after all,

but fires for the cold,

ropes let down to the lost,

something as necessary

as bread

in the pockets of the hungry.”

— Mary Oliver