Sunday, November 2, 2014

November Rain

Today is just another Sunday. You wake up in the morning with gloomy eyes, desiring to go back to your bed. But Sunday errands stop you from clutching onto the bed sheet. With a mild curse, you drag the body out of the bed and rest of the actions followed.

Then you find sometime of your own; grab the book which you have been reading for a while and engross yourself to the world of fiction. Suddenly you find, each and every line written there is your state of mind. You feel, it is just a coincidence; but you cannot deny that the author actually relates to a situation you are living. 

In the evening, you decide to stroll around with someone and you wish to do that forever. As you sit beside one another, stare at the same old boats on the river and find men dipping themselves to clench off the daily hear someone to breathe. 

Everybody does! 

But how many times you feel that breathing can speak or may be it can dream? Yes, it actually does, only if you have the ear to listen. It’s a big dream on a rough canvas. It takes a brush and start painting from the bottom of the page with the zeal to color the whole canvas with wishes, desires and hopes. The air exhaled is so strong, you feel holding the elbow and speak, but it’s already said. 

And then you come back to your senses, wishing from the core of your heart, may all that you breathe get a shape, a life that says, “You made it!”