Yugantar Writes

You should see me walk now, Or, maybe you shouldn't But I know you would not recognize me, or at least stare for a minute before having a hint. Buy, If you see me walking, on these streets where I once imagined walking with you. Hand in hand, like we once did, The road leading to your house; Carefree- it never mattered who were all around. The only thing we thought about was how your hands, fit so perfectly in mine. Because it was all just fine. I was always fine. But, Those hands that once held yours They rest restlessly in my pockets now; In a town, that is mine but is new. On these streets, that aren't but feels new. Sounds awful, But, it’s heavy to stay standing For my heart is half the size When you’re gone. You know, You should see me walk now, Or, maybe you shouldn't. I have forgotten to know things, Like, how it's like to walk and know where you're walking to; Know where you want to end up And just simply go there. I'

A cup of tea, and a newspaper headline "Boy, 18, Kills Himself". Usual news it was. Forensics confirmed of suicide. No words of clemency around. Blasphemies from many mouths, a pair of eyes though shed hushed tears, as if asking for forgiveness. Boy. Thick rimmed glasses- a show-off they called, dissembled bulk of hair-careless they called, un-ironed pants-lazy they whispered, class topper-cheater they claimed, name- Munal they loathed. Lower middle class family. Raised by father, hated by his stepmother and her daughter. He lost his mother when he was five and together with mother, he lost his voice. Sole but jovial soul, bright one he was. Physics he considered his heart. He revered Hawking, and loved relativity as much. Discoursing with guitar, frets and chords soothed him. He bled ink, for pen was his only voice. His stories spoke of stars and vanished souls. Being mute had no rewards. But petite did his lost voice affected him. No grievances he had of his inf

My atoms I feel, Are caught by yours. And though they never meet, They feel the chemistry. The one, which though hovering Would grow together. Ones, though imperfect, Will continue thriving for perfection. I catch you in each jouska of mine, See, I am the only silent one in each anecdoche in there, For yours is the only voice I hear. The voice of yours, that soothes, The voice of yours that heals. I inhale the chaos, Thy leading myself to breathe love. But, Stuck in the presence, I never could. Words I tell you, Are delusions; like the opia I feel of yours. For those words brought me to you, They are carrying you away now. For those words used to brighten you up, Now are haunting all of me. For those words which made your smile wider Now make me feel like an empty plain white paper, Crumbled and dabbed with inks all over. Like a mirror huge, Shattered with distant stones. A bird once free, Now flightless, wingless. Breaking free, Of all the chain

(It took me 8 days to write this letter, joining parts and bringing them together. Sorry to be out of touch) Dear,     This one is my first letter to you. I do not know even if I have the right to call you 'dear', but, let us build on with it; at least for this letter. This letter is not just a love letter. This letter is recollection of my memoir, the way I had been and the way I am now. I don’t know that if you even care, but, yes, I know you will definitely run your eyes through these words after getting this letter.     You might have known when this all begun right? Right from the day you promised our friendship would never end. My hands were wrapped around yours, it was pitch dark, but I could still feel the warmth of your heart and see the smile of yours. No wonder that was the best evening with you. Days passed, I grasping your hand and walking back home, oh those days were wonderful.     But the way I am getting the things now, I feel I was just too dumb. I

'I really love you.' *Backspace* 'I miss you.' *Backspace* 'Miss me?' *Backspace* 'Hey!' *Enter* You see, Backspace wins the battle against Emotions.