Silent emotions

A week went by and they didn’t talk. Then suddenly one day he messages and she replies, “Yeah, I won’t mind talking to you at all!” She kept speaking so much. She was trying to be calm although, but yet she just felt a lot more comfortable with him now. She asked him about his likes and dislikes and what not, just like a very nosy investigating officer. Oh! But he just didn’t mind. He said, “Please continue asking, my lady.” She loved him to be the epitome of kindness and gentleman likeness. She asked him about his biggest fear, he replied, “Losing myself”; she said, “Be ready to lose yourself then”. She told him she feared darkness. He said “darkness is beautiful my lady, hiding in it everything”. She then told how her relation with him was totally different. She didn’t know what she felt with him but all she wanted to do with him was to star gaze in the depths of sky. She wanted to sit beside him in silence and embrace the presence of moments. He asked her, “Should I honestly...

Time is powerful – making things legen- wait for it -dary.      

She knows their worlds are far apart. But she still has hopes not in the reality but only in the dimension beyond space and time.  She dwells in consciousness and unconsciousness. She has two sides – the one is real and the other is extreme. Her extreme bonded with his extreme and they became one. They felt one. It was not a feeling, not a thought, not an expression but a realization. They were in now. She doesn’t expect her king to go beyond his walls because she can’t run away from hers. She is trapped yet free and so is he. She wants to keep him alive and with her just like this – just in her stories. After all, that is what she always was, is and will be – a story teller. She met her other half who completed her story. Insanity met the hungry fool. He said, “Maybe that is how stories are written”. Losing was easy with him – losing herself. How much she longed for such a loss in order to feel her real self. The king wished to whisper in her ears, “I love you.”

The night was usual but she wanted to open her heart to someone. They were talking about the real things in an unreal world – having discussions about infinity and beyond, of cyclic phenomenon. She asked him for something and there it began - the the story so powerful, a story beyond words. He said, “I don’t know about such things, my lady” and then he dragged her down to a place she could never leave. It was his heart where he kept her, where she felt safe. The seconds slipped into minutes, minutes into hours – the time for them had stopped. They were two hypocrites sharing continuous hypocrisy. Their convoluted ideas and thoughts made their lives daedalian but nonetheless, more beautiful than ever. She said, "I wish I were with you". He said, "I wish you were with me". He became her art, she became his poetry. They were ideas that blossomed into pristine. Yes, it was pristine what they had. They didn’t know what it was, but only knew, it was. They drove eac...

Splendid, glorifying, magnanimous; she was stupefied in his love – the love that poured through his words. It was beautiful – the world they lived in. It was a different dimension – beyond comprehension. She is spellbound with the thought that how real all this is. That the story she is writing is what is real – words making love to words, expressions expressing expressions. Lovely! She always wanted to have a fairy tale. Now she was living one – a unique one. She could live her dreams through her words, through her writings and same could he. He was a brilliant writer – an extraordinary creation. All night their words danced. The keys on the keyboard produced music because it was what they had. They lived in energies – whirling throughout the universe in the form of electromagnetic waves. They made love at the juxtaposition of science, creativity and spirituality. I guess the word love is not right to define what they had or what they have. It is a bond beyond boundaries in a p...