tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15671466574428873602024-02-02T14:09:44.991-08:00growing in menehasaraswthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18250222445196427217noreply@blogger.comBlogger88125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1567146657442887360.post-80706277726502404792020-12-15T22:16:00.002-08:002021-03-15T07:15:52.098-07:00moment that hung in the passage of time<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcJcklolyxWBYWnziE2nTSFGd_Lht9pqrDYDl0PeChHnDUkGma7c-myy6TIGupjlmE9d89ZPN_r7jdq7WR0HT3gPcWtw_L5h8rIBhnBU500vGTkOVkWMvzvKdJL8m4yywtoa3nzHJXoU/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1035" data-original-width="582" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcJcklolyxWBYWnziE2nTSFGd_Lht9pqrDYDl0PeChHnDUkGma7c-myy6TIGupjlmE9d89ZPN_r7jdq7WR0HT3gPcWtw_L5h8rIBhnBU500vGTkOVkWMvzvKdJL8m4yywtoa3nzHJXoU/" width="135" /></a></div><br />you did go away leaving me hanging... <p></p><p>in the middle of a conversation... </p><p>anticipating, and drifting in to the highs and lows of it all... </p><p>like that bee near the blossom </p><p>on the other side of the glass pane... </p><p>like that island surrounded by sea... </p><p>in the middle of no where... </p><p>and that moment...</p><p>that hung in the passage of time... </p><p>the story of yearning is the only story told... </p><p>those make the throat dry... </p><p>like the eyes of that bee , the sand on the island and that pause in that time...</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.ringsurf.com/netring?ring=5025;id=478;action=prev"><</a>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNMnkZXxdvTUqA-GV34TvGbHI961erodOlp2fMahmIOIEPBOnPOCM3m-WmOeiFU7hKhZ6Y8Xv0UMAqvg7hFV0snZHlfxyJbRtNp_TZsBwNfFnBa_44Hi1Pp0KG34PprJxmPoRKfdfW9s/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1301" data-original-width="1951" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdNMnkZXxdvTUqA-GV34TvGbHI961erodOlp2fMahmIOIEPBOnPOCM3m-WmOeiFU7hKhZ6Y8Xv0UMAqvg7hFV0snZHlfxyJbRtNp_TZsBwNfFnBa_44Hi1Pp0KG34PprJxmPoRKfdfW9s/" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><br />I might have said this several times<br />
and you...<br />
might have thought of it as well<br />
its strange that we are so similar<br />
and still...<br />
we are not the same<br />
<br />
we set out to become the lost pieces<br />
of a puzzle...<br />
those that were cast to meet<br />
the one that is you, looking to fill<br />
trying and testing<br />
the one thats me, with endless gaps<br />
<br />
we like to feel its all done<br />
and the time<br />
has done its deed to cement<br />
there are new ones though<br />
every now and then<br />
where me being me and you being you</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPK1cKuKUPc7RhFjl91XZNYQWB9NW8fFNlCcFikyWN-W8WBfxGUa2PPEWcCMWrch7eYfLsi1O4C_IKe6Cm5PeEIp8uLjdc0aL_XUEy2gSb9lc8fj34FDTkKDg_Til-Yd0RV9VPfqifYCc/s1600/Corbis-42-23051121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPK1cKuKUPc7RhFjl91XZNYQWB9NW8fFNlCcFikyWN-W8WBfxGUa2PPEWcCMWrch7eYfLsi1O4C_IKe6Cm5PeEIp8uLjdc0aL_XUEy2gSb9lc8fj34FDTkKDg_Til-Yd0RV9VPfqifYCc/s320/Corbis-42-23051121.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I see you... Yes, I do,<br />
In this splash... of forgotten<br />
evoked by drama of season shift<br />
I try to keep aloof,<br />
pulling the curtain, shutting the pane<br />
de acclimatizing and conditioning my surround<br />
yet it pierced through<br />
as flashes, running by<br />
reminding, reviving, reinstating<br />
what is between me and you<br />
and I see you... and you me too<br />
although just in apercu... </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.ringsurf.com/netring?ring=5025;id=478;action=prev"><</a>
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<br />
In the state of incredulity<br />
and uncertainty over the same<br />
I kept calling you... yet<br />
couldn't share any of such...<br />
<br />
can I ever...<br />
more... will you ever...<br />
<br />
mind maps...<br />
and their gaps...<br />
if only those could be drawn...<br />
or understood...</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.ringsurf.com/netring?ring=5025;id=478;action=prev"><</a>
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<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiABTG13b2ff9ZFli6Z0a4MrSziOxlVLkaqi13R9R3PiUupl72miBGIl7ekqzaHMiasXgJlwl8vdas0xI-A09cKI5w9glvQrCw0ObBP1Uw_tug1HDpnyJG2OfO6s_xZlAm4Hk_0xss0O_Y/s1600/Corbis-42-21113363.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiABTG13b2ff9ZFli6Z0a4MrSziOxlVLkaqi13R9R3PiUupl72miBGIl7ekqzaHMiasXgJlwl8vdas0xI-A09cKI5w9glvQrCw0ObBP1Uw_tug1HDpnyJG2OfO6s_xZlAm4Hk_0xss0O_Y/s320/Corbis-42-21113363.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
At this moment…
<br />That hangs in the air…
<br />Uattached… digressed from the physical world
<br />That’s running…
<br />Maybe parallel… to me and you
<br />As we exist metaphysically
<br />Together…
<br />Beyond this frame of time
<br />And space
<br />I look at you
<br />And your existence
<br />Intellectual
<br />And make love to you
<br />In my mind…<br />
<br />
<br />Pleasure…
<br />It does find its ways
<br />While there wasn’t
<br />Any scope for it…
<br />Smiles
<br />Smiles </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.ringsurf.com/netring?ring=5025;id=478;action=prev"><</a>
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<a href="http://www.ringsurf.com/netring?ring=5025;id=478;action=next">></a></div>nehasaraswthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18250222445196427217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1567146657442887360.post-163206962814855072010-03-06T12:46:00.000-08:002010-03-06T12:50:52.143-08:00wishful<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHymvZ8AIG9RiRXqwzJT-cuz_PqPGUfaKxAE89CV3MSpeHbl7yDXkFpNSPZc6ne3k-SFdvTsWhFpzp1EdgEa29qZb-fuLpiUHnQmgxPODEib-YXjnj5ymH8O87LoOgOWzLKoNVGZbs0mc/s1600-h/42-17105986.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHymvZ8AIG9RiRXqwzJT-cuz_PqPGUfaKxAE89CV3MSpeHbl7yDXkFpNSPZc6ne3k-SFdvTsWhFpzp1EdgEa29qZb-fuLpiUHnQmgxPODEib-YXjnj5ymH8O87LoOgOWzLKoNVGZbs0mc/s320/42-17105986.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445626138600732962" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I wonder if you kept</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Some little parts of your existence</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Wrapped in the soft cover…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Those that felt so nice to touch</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Unexposed to this world of many…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Expecting me to come to them …</p> <p class="MsoNormal">When they are new and naïve</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The tonal difference </p> <p class="MsoNormal">So gradual yet sudden stark</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Clearly exhibiting untanned… cured</p> <p class="MsoNormal">From …Tanned and expose</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Untouched from this worldly malign</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Pure and wrapped in white…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Oh they felt so mine…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But that was just too wishful…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And yes you dare to bare</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Exposing every bit …</p> <p class="MsoNormal">To the smallest pilus…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not to wonder…<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">How u evenly tanned…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Let me get more wishful…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And hope to find …</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A road that you travelled alone</p> <p class="MsoNormal">An unexplored flavor of tea</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A new excitement of edge of seat…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And then I wish to share</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Everything new… on your flair</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And yes I will wait…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">For the new growth…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">From this shiny waxed skin…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.ringsurf.com/netring?ring=5025;id=478;action=prev"><</a>
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What a contrast to a well build well dressed<br />her... still they coexist and relate... the mind that they both had<br />vibrated in synchrony on many issues...<br /><br />Manufacturing defects they used to laugh...<br /><br />She saw her standing at the gate of an unfamiliar residence... they<br />looked at each other and laughed ... for no reason (the situation<br />couldn't allow even a hint of laughter...) and when they were done...<br />they could see the moist eyes which couldn't be hidden from each<br />other...<br />she would cry any moment she thought...<br />no i wont she thought... i have... but not now....<br />she sees a disfigured smile... but a distinct recognition of empathy...<br /><br />they stayed together... and let the chilly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">brease</span> pass through their<br />hair... for the sake of solidarity... no word spoken... nothing<br />unearthed... still she knew... its broken... it wont be one again...<br /><br />She looked at her... she looked at her... and it was known there<br />wasn't any point to discuss... the ear drum was broken by that blow<br />and face was disfigured... she could only hear from one ear... that<br />too echoed... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">humm</span> they laughed at it....<br />What if I see a handsome man and he wish to whisper something... which<br />I wont hear...<br />And they laughed again... they needed to see the doctor <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">immidiately</span>...<br />So they rushed....<br />Doctor after doctor... door after door... tests after test...</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:arial;font-size:13;" ><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);">Run and cross....</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);">No i am scared to cross... i need to hold hand</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);">There no hand to hold... run at my call</span>...she <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">doesnt</span> notice... the<br />impact of the statement...<br />She laughs, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);">yes there <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">isnt</span> any hand now to hold...</span><br />She sees bleak dimming eyes.. eyes those used to be wide and full and<br />smiling... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);">sorry</span> she says ... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);">i <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">didnt</span> mean it.. but run on my call<br />hold my hand if you wish...</span><br /><br />They reach the doc... last in rows... same set of question...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:arial;font-size:13;" ><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">What <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">happned</span>?</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);">I fell...</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">This <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">doesnt</span> seem to caused by falling...</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);">I said i fell... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">thats</span> all i know...</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Maybe someone hit you after you fell...</span><br />The doctor sees the change of emotion on her face... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);">i fell and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">thats</span><br />all i know...</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Are you married....</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:arial;font-size:13;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br /></span>This time the other her laughs... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);">sure she is... what do you think ...<br />people fall and married people fall often...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:arial;font-size:13;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);">No married people fall for once and then they file a divorce..</span>. she confirms...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:arial;font-size:13;" ><br />Doctor is shocked now.... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">whats wrong with you ladies.... if it is a<br />police case i wont touch this... anyways there is very less chance<br />that you will hear from this ear again... i will try my best...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:arial;font-size:13;" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);">Oh no doctor... i wish to hear... other wise how would i hear the<br />whisper so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">wishfull</span>... i wish to hear that... i wish to hear more..</span>.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:arial;font-size:13;" ><br />And they both laugh... and laugh and laugh...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;font-family:arial;font-size:13;" ><br />The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">doctore</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">precribes</span>... not to laugh and not to be with a mad person<br />like her.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.ringsurf.com/netring?ring=5025;id=478;action=prev"><</a>
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(wonder how weakest of women jump on the very mention of shopping).<br />The show started.... a floral pants... big flowers printed on.... the maron top to go wid it.... and a burst of laughter from A.... she is puzzled whats wrong.... she has always worn these big flowers.... and these pants look beautiful.... but A has different ideas... “ my dear lady” A continues... “ you are short and its time you realise that big flowers dont suit you... besides that dont go wid you image and age... you look younger and funnier in those “ .... “oh i dont care” she replies...”i like those and thats it....” both smile in unison... know that they cannot change each other....<br /><br />She climbs the bus with difficulties... the weather and pollen had been at their worst and she had to travel so suddenly.... no reservation anywhere... so the bus....<br />“Let’s take it.... this is also a challenge”... she tells herself and starts...<br />All eyes on her as she boards with difficulty... slowly .... try to hide her weak state and short breathes.... some 52 pairs of eyes scrutinize her as she make her way to the seat... first seat... reserved for ladies... and soon she sat she realised she is the only female on board.... and so she realised all on board are looking at every small part of her body as if they havent seen a female before... and also that she becomes a lesser human the moment she is recognised as woman... she become suddenly very conscious of what she wore....<br />And what she wore.... her floral pants... (They are so comfortable... she had to wear them)...<br /><br />She covered herself with another layer of shawl to be sure her curves are fully covered and rescued from the winds that are making her wheeze.... she breathes with great difficulties... and soon forgets about.... the sea of eyes looking at her .... the alcohol soaked air.... the smell of gutakha, which works less as mouth freshner and more as intoxicator to the person having it and which irritates her with its strong smell... she draws in herself the wheater, the rattle of the bus, the chill in the air, all make her draw in herself and be away from the journey the destination and the surround....<br /><br />She caugh now and then to reassure that she lives.... the bus keeps running on the ghats of this Gondwana terrain sometimes she seem to run fine and some other time she seem to digress....<br />The buswalas.... keep yelling... Jagadalpur.... Jagadalpur.... Jagadalpur.... she keeps reminding them it is kondagaon she wish to go so tell her when it comes.... they dont even seem to hear her... or simply pretend that they dont.... she gives up... her breathing gets heavier.... she cant talk more... not a word... she sinks in to the shawl again... deep.... “am i sleeping or ... i am awake... half asleep she.... knows she cant sleep.... she pulls out a pill from her bag... and with this pull a sweet aroma fills the environment.... she realises that the essential oil that her father blended for her to cure her Asthama.... she takes a whiff... sniffs it in... the oil in the form of vapor gets in to the lung covers a part of it.... reduces the swell and she is relieved for a second....temporary relief....<br /><br />She puts the pill in to her ... and look for a greater comfort... nothing comes easy.... she starts to shake.... Ahh! The side effect.... nothing comes without a pricetag.... she smiles at herself and the situation she had put herself in... Trembling she sits on her seat trying not to show anyone the situation she was in.... no one should know... this night shall pass and i will be alive to face the great responsibility i took .... There are so many who wait for me... i shall live...<br /><br />The bus sways suddenly and stops .... the naxalite naka they say.... everyone is asked to get out.... she slowly rose... covered herself again.... tighten the shawl around and gets down.... now everyone can see her.... even those who didn’t realize earlier that there is a lady traveling with them one such person was sitting just behind her... the naxal asks her to stand aloof... as he doesn’t wish to bother her.... he says aloud naxals have respect for women... he smiles she is too weak to smile at this moment.... the full moon night so beautiful goes hazy in her eyes... she shakes more visibly and the asthelene is at work... the chill in the air is at its best.... and she stood aloof of the mob of men.... they all do what the naxal says... the guy in his early twenties is commanding a big mob of around 50 men.... Men she laughs in her mind....<br /><br />After the procedure is complete they were ask to board the bus again and the bus rattles again to the winding path that shines in this beautiful full moon night.... she despairs how she isn’t able to appreciate or react on anything that’s happening around her... Ahh! This isn’t me... I don’t wish to be this... she cries... but cries cant fight with the shivers that she is experiencing... she sits still and try to harmonies her breath.... slow ... and deep.... soon the medicine puts her to a state of half sleep state and she becomes unconscious of her state... at least for sometime....<br /><br />In her dreams she feels something crawling on her body.... no not on the entire body... but something like trying to start crawling.... what is it.... she tries to identify.... (even in her dream she is inquisitive and aware) the creature that crawls feels familiar... how she isn’t able to see the creature.... only can feel it on her body .... oh it is on one of my side and it is starting to crawl from behind.... its long with many legs... her breath becomes shorter and shorter as she tries to look .... almost out of breath she is awakes suddenly.... and figure there is actually something which has crawled from behind to her breast and now is trying to locate her nipple.... she jumps... that which crawled was a hand of the person sitting on the seat just behind hers.... as she jumps and stands looking at the person behind..... she sees everyone on board in deep sleep.... including the person whose hand she found crawling over her body....<br /><br />Filled with disgust.... she knew half of them are pretending it and at least 10-15 were witnessing the crime .... she has no evidence of.... something moves in her she feels like crying at high pitch .... but no she isn’t so feeble... she cant be... this isn’t her to step back at the time of action she stand on her seat and bends backwards to reach the guy on seat behind hers.... pulls him with his hair..... looks for his hand and twists his wrists with whatever force she could.... the guys starts yelling .... shouting.... for help.... some other also shout at her.... she pays no attention keeps beating him till she could and sits calmly after she is done .... as if nothing happens...<br />The mob follows her ... all shut their eyes to what happened.... she smiles in her mind.... now the guy on the seat behind hers sits shivering for the rest of the night....<br />A night which becomes a bright and shiny day as the bus approaches Kondagaon....<br />.... and she feels herself again in her floral print pants....</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.ringsurf.com/netring?ring=5025;id=478;action=prev"><</a>
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<a href="http://www.ringsurf.com/netring?ring=5025;id=478;action=next">></a></div>nehasaraswthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18250222445196427217noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1567146657442887360.post-60103636236134421862008-10-16T05:59:00.000-07:002009-11-15T21:19:14.290-08:00a dark grey<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Vd3GItRQa4pqKBgKy6Evx273tCF-TEOJghaavkZEwZ40uSn_5MD-AIXpykve7MtMb2UwsDO-uaOAEP0cC4_I5iH-_Cul8kLGw4gvHT7tUobg-nfymp6s_Kp-NRvxevDZeJYaRlDkMOs/s1600/42-21831733.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Vd3GItRQa4pqKBgKy6Evx273tCF-TEOJghaavkZEwZ40uSn_5MD-AIXpykve7MtMb2UwsDO-uaOAEP0cC4_I5iH-_Cul8kLGw4gvHT7tUobg-nfymp6s_Kp-NRvxevDZeJYaRlDkMOs/s320/42-21831733.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404566715245545394" /></a><br />They say they look perfect together...<br />two of a kind hand in hand...<br />nobody asked her if she felt perfect with him<br />or if he saw her as perfect ....<br />he kept on saying he is perfect with or without her,<br />she didnt care if he isn’t perfect<br /><br />she never believed in idea of perfection...<br />she would wish to be admired as anybody would<br />she did all the admiration and got none<br />assumed all admiration from him are silent<br />and accepted all those silent moments as admiration....<br />believed he knew only good of her....<br /><br />he knew he is great cause she said so<br />he knew he could do great cause so the setting was<br />he knew he is admirable cause that’s the only way he knew<br />he knew she could be perfect... if only<br />she could dance like H.... laugh like A<br />walk like N and be a bit more professional like V<br /><br />and thus spilled the beans...<br />he wouldnt know whats wrong...<br />she would never tell him<br />but for her he is long gone<br />cause she would ever dance, laugh,<br />walk, talk or be professional like anybody else but herself...<br /><br />so she walks out alone... as herself...<br />even though its dark... as dark as the darkest grey<br />and him left behind mimicking endless greys<br />in illusion of white against a darker grey<br />cause ther are no whites or black<br />but endless shades of grey...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://www.ringsurf.com/netring?ring=5025;id=478;action=prev"><</a>
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