The search

That was the last time she saw him, tears in her eyes, pain in her heart, silence of shock and cry of helplessness haunted her soul as she saw him getting slayed by her brother. She saw his holy blood gushing out of his body and she died a thousand deaths .His palms were nailed to the wooden plank and his pain, she knew, knew no bounds. She had never seen him so weak, he was dying, dying for her. He did not fight back, he did not plea, he stood there like a stone, without a cry, sans any sign of pain, bereft a soul. She couldn’t see him like that anymore and prayed the lord to take his breaths away and relieve him of all pains and miseries. She wanted to run to him and kiss his pains away, but she was chained like an animal. She couldn’t even kill herself and had to see him dying a slow painful death. He was being punished for their love. A love that was their identities, that meant god to them.. Her faith was departing, her god was dying. Hours had passed and both of them kept looking into each others’ eyes, as if to bid good-byes. They wanted to hold each other for one last time. She wanted to feel his breaths before she turns into a corpse, she wanted to feel the warmth before everything turns cold forever. She wanted to shout but her cords seldom moved. She was dying within, of pain, of separation, of deceit. He fought till the last drop of blood squeezed out of his pale body and closed his eyes, which didn’t blink once in those 5 hours. He was gone. Forever. Something strong went into her, a tear trickled down her lifeless face and she never spoke again. She wrote him letters which remained the only pseudo communication she had with anyone. She was like a dead body to everyone else. One fine morning, she left her home, which had turned into a house off late, in search of a purpose, in search of a search , in search of finding herself back, in search of peace. In search of  life. She set forth on a journey alone, with a white plain gown on her body, pen and a writing pad in her hand. She was fearless, for she knew she had nothing to lose now. She slept under a tree, with beggars on the street, she slept in the temple and got raped by men, She knew no pain. As if she had ceased to feel. She did not find peace in the god’s home and moved on, she helped the diseased in the hospitals, she cried with patients and laughed with them. She taught kids. She wanted to feel her existence now. She travelled to unknown lands and distant places in search of something she didn’t know. She still wrote him letters, clueless of where to post them all. She still didn’t know what she was searching for. He was always there with her, within her. She lived with the birds and the fishes, she would lose herself in the mountains and the rivers and nothing else made her happy. She travelled to the woods and found peace in the sound of the resonating autumn leaves. She loved the music of the birds. She was lost physically and mentally. She crossed the seas and met people, she spent hours in the rain and felt herself alive. She visited the pyramids and lost herself in the mysterious stories of the past and slept under the open sky, counting stars and often finding him. She was convinced of the fact, that if she was at peace, his soul rests in peace. The only thing that excited her was contributing her bit to the society and justifying her existence and travelling to unknown lands. She felt the breeze on her lifeless face and felt alive. She wanted to capture nature’s beauty in her eyes but always failed. She had realised, she wanted to be a photographer. She worked at places, to earn money, so she can buy a camera. She didn’t eat from what she earned. She kept saving it, for she had a dream now. She wanted something from life and had a purpose now. She still travelled to places with a new vigour in her eyes and his eternal memories in her heart. And after 4 years of working at random places she bought herself a camera. And within a few years she emerged as the century’s greatest photographer. She made it more beautiful and alive and had a passion that kept her going, that still makes her travel to far far lands. She still loves him and their love was immortal and the letters, she left them all in some Church in France. He wasn’t in another world. He was with her, in her.And that’s how she was born again.

To the world,

Dear world
Get lost.
No, I'm not frustrated.I'm just normally plainly rude.What do you think? You'll screw things and get away with it? Every, every freaking time? If I were you, I would have commited suicide, for who I am. But well, you have killed your conscience, haven't you ? One day you play the evil metro, giving me all the pains in the world, the other day you do this and then you do something so gross that made me write this. Another odd day, you play the bald stinky faculty who is alive only to suck out blood from our bodies and see us rot till our last breaths. Today, you were an autowaala, I swear, I wanted to slap you, but then that's not me. Good for you, what did you think? my father is a minister who mints money day and night? This man has spent lacs on me, to set me off for a better life, cutting down his personal costs , and you, you want me to pay you extra because you can shout and mis-behave in the mid of the road ? Well, go to hell. I would have paid you extra if you were polite but well, go to hell again. I don't understand what is up with the world? why can't people be polite? Why is everyone talking like the mcd office clerks , you are frustrated? get a punching bag. Or fucking don't, that's your concern. All I ask for, is talk polite, and if you can't, f**k off. Seriously.Next time, I may lose my mind, apart from peace, and may, you know, just kill you. So do your work and go shout at your kids.I don't acknowledge any shit from anybody.
Sincerely,
The girl in Blue Converse