This is Life.

It’s like a flower. You water it ,and there rejenuvates opposites. Thorns and the flower of colours. To the naked eye the flower is always the beautiful , thorns are just a part of it though poisonous.

It’s like a bird . Having feathers which make it a flying thing. It’s like a bird which is so free that the human life creates the opposite for it. But when the same bird targets yet another like him , he is the devil . And the freedom becomes the obsession.

It’s in the colours too. Humans who are fair love black. Marriage couple detest it for having repelling nature. On contrary white is dove. Snow and serene. It’s like the colours. Beautiful but destructive.

It’s like pride. The neck is high above the ninth cloud. But even if the apple which created the gravitation didn’t fall ,the flowers which were spread in the sky for the felicitation of beauty fell down and were crippled under the shoes of the inhuman.

It’s like the iciles. Its winter. Its frozen. But on the other side its the water formed by the hot rays of sun. Its like summer , you can’t get naked because the skin isn’t enough to reveal. The scars are.

If you still didn’t get what “It” is like , grab a book , spread your legs , bask the sun. And you will feel alive. And that’s life.

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The summer farewell.

family-quotes-hd-wallpaper-5I was small when I had watched a television commercial which reflected the melancholic child who left his parents for hostel. I remember , the laugh and the critical appreciation I would do as a kid myself. But all our lives we don’t remain the same. Its proven that a human grows at every step. And the realization of a television commercial becoming a part of my daily summer vacations creept me within.And the laugh had changed naturally to the lumps of tears at the time of see off’s.

Well it was the year 2014, and I had come home back from the college which was in the national capital of the country I live. It couldn’t get better on seeing the first sight of my mother at airport . I knew the picture behind her statue pose , restricting herself to spread her arms for me to run to her. Because we have a society she couldn’t.

The happiness of leaving home is the excitement to return back.How true is the writer. Excitement creeps you like cold Peirce’s into a human who is about to die.

The waves of excitement that you experience on crossing half away is not in comparison to any of the worldly happiness. And the way we think its going to end it does, it surely does with tears and immense pride .

My mother and I sat on a porch that very day . Gossiping like never before we ate ,drank ( not liquior because its banned in our house), and a new wave of freshness came within me . It felt as if I had left the paradise after Belzebub had motivated me to return to hell. It felt I was now satisfied about my existence and life that I never ever wanted to leave them again in future. It felt we were blood and it was flowing. And yes we were the infinite blood.

The extra care we receive after a year back home is tremendous. New city had sucked my half of a blood through its veg meal menu available at every step of it .But it was mother who actually gave me my life back. And its not only about the food always , its always the love , affection that the family doesn’t feel less of.

As summer season is washed by winter. And it finds happiness in turning up once again after winter have had its term , my vacations where ended with the re -opining of college and my life was back to a place which made my life nonetheless a void.

{Families are the biggest thing one has. It includes your parents, siblings , and cousins. The rest of the world comes in acquaintance. -beer}

The venom.

It was  located at the end of the farmland.Beautiful landscape and growing grasses had there own  scenic beauty and most of the newly wedded romantic couples  couldn’t let themselves be in less awe.It was rumoured that once a woman was seen looking in a mirror and had disappeared amidst the wall of the house but none could believe without the evidences.The street in which it was located was called 124 ,and had a similar wave of fear found in the Hollywood picture which had won the Oscar . It was believed that when in the midnight people travelled through 124 street some misfortune happened to them altogether. Or else there lives were damaged for eternity. It was rutting in my body the fact of facing the devil if this house possessed. I had been working with the most renowned paranormal industry since a year now and they had rewarded me with a bronze and gold medal for my tremendous contribution and had chosen me to dissect the house from its edges to its bottom, kitchen to its washroom and see if there was a venom pouring through its corridors. I had my hands up and with the mission of spending one night in the farmland I travelled through the country and reached this conjured house. 

The more enlightened our houses are ,the more their walls ooze ghosts.

_Italo Calvino..

 

Putting on my baize I bid good bye to my driver and I was all alone with my camera on the video mode and my Holy Book and the rooms of the house that was missing a family since ages or had been the murderer of the same.My heart did fall to the voice which I had accidently made by punching hard on a wood and had thought to be of the first attack from the pre -paranormal being residing there since I don’t know  for how many times.

It was a great fiction happening to my real life. My own shadow was trying to judge my fear level and the strength to deal with anything but not black.I had always loved black colour for it’s grace and the quality to go with any next damn colour. But this scene of black colour was different. It was creepy like the raven sitting on the border of the dusty window closed since ages.

My body prespired and I was suffocating.

Because the windows were closed and I didn’t want to disturb the comfort zone of my friend devil who maybe was sitting just next to me half burnt , ugly like Belzebub or else whose intestines was naked to human eyes, or maybe just mine. I waited for the next attack. I scratched my skin for it was tremendously itching , and I had blood coming out of the little mosquitoe bites I got for living in for just 12 hours. I had packed a MCD burger for myself and couldn’t stop my butterflies from flying through every corner in my belly. As soon as I opened it , and had a bite I heard a noise something that could co relate to the voice of my having a bite. I had a bite again and again it was there even more louder. Until I finished my burger I  had felt as if 50 more people were dining tonight with me. It was aweful and I could feel the pressure through my bones going straight to my cold feet which were numb.

I always have looked high upto myself.I always thought of myself to be more beautiful and to be charismatic. I always applied costly make ups and branded perfumes which either my dad or I myself bought from the local general store. But this time when I had a bath from the tub which I had rescued from the empty space in the kitchen and had filled it with water from my water jars I smelled of the rotten meat , and I sniffed again and again and thought of a dead animal. It felt like I was living in an open land where dead bodies of human laid in open fresh space of air which was kept like that since my grandmother was born.

I tried living with that smell till I laid down for it was one in my wristwatch. While I laid down I felt as if someone was lying upon me . I felt myself of 6000kgs and around me I felt my dead companions were regularly twisting and curling . 

      I wasn’t alone ,I satisfied myself.

My feet was first dragged by the mighty dead till the entrance door , to the roof of the house where I could imagine myself with the tongue outside my mouth and cockroaches of all the shapes and sizes biting me from beneath and making my flesh visible to my own eyes.

It was horrible. I was one and they were I don’t know how many. It was pathetic. I just wished for the sun to shine when I would have fulfilled my promise of being alive and spending one night in the house of my so not called beloved. Beloved because they had spent the night with me taking full care of my heart and drenching it with the maximum percentage of fear leveling from 10% to 100%. 

The sun rose the next day , I was bruised.I grabbed my camera and didn’t had the strength to look back at what had happened to me. Because remember I had kept it at the video mode.

I was saved because I had the holy book.I was saved because the venom of lord had been stichted to my heart.

 

Street 124, my biggest nightmare and indeed the most unfaithful fiction happening to my real life.