Home Struck

Roots. Places you belong to. The home where your heart is. Roads that you have treaded for years, time and again. People who have shaped what you are today. Surroundings where your childhood crackled; your teenage strolled, snooping and sneaking. The laughter, the fights. You have been through it all, right here. Your base foundation. The soil whose scent you cannot wane. A place that holds memories so many, you can’t ever finish recollecting.

We tend to drift away. We change and grow and evolve. We meet new people, see new places, plan on seeing newer places. Move to greener pastures and similar stuff. Our roots though, they are instilled like how salt dissolves into water. Not much to say today. Just that, NEVER forget your roots people.

Solicitations

Pour me a glass of sunshine that falls on you; I would never stop sipping. Cut me a slice of your innocent boyish charm and I would gobble it up all day long. Throw me a sight of your unrestrained self and I wouldn’t blink an eye. Smile and I will find something melodious to hear in that sound. Don’t hesitate to get weak in front of me, I’ll be your solid ground. Then sometimes, be strong for me, so I’ll crumble in your arms. If you try too hard, I would resist the effort. If you keep to yourself, I’ll sense the indifference. But if you only try your tiniest bit to solve the mess of a puzzle I am, I will unravel such, it will be indelibly etched in your memory. Here’s my humble request: Take a piece of me. Leave me a piece of you.

Pricky Situation

Hand me a family pack of ice cream or a jumbo bag of chips to churn on, that will last through the day. Because that is all I want to do; sit in a blank space and muse over you. Skip my chores and ruminate. Vanish away from these social etiquettes and prance around, like I did, knowing that you own some bit of me. Sit by the beach, have some corn and memorize you in detailed bits and pieces. Sip on a really large mug of coffee and laugh about our silly innuendos. May be I am craving for food, may be I am yearning for you. It is hard to say. I don’t want to be appeased. And food is not going to quench my appetite. So, I just come here and write. With no intentions in mind.

Note to self: Have to shift to happier posts soon.

phase

Boundless

How is it that we don’t talk and yet I feel connected to you. Like we are stars that emerged from the same interstellar dust of cloud and our bond won’t break by the distances or the silence between us. We were very alike, synced. How is it that I am not mad at you. How does it not bother me if you are doing things that once made me flinch. Why does your absense feel eerie? Why don’t we unhitch? May be we have and I am hanging on to the last filaments. May be we never will. Uncertainities have become my second name. And yet, there is peace amongst all the chaos.