7

Literature classes have always  been fun. They are completely different when you consider it your profession. First step to read the book, analyse and critical analyse. Isint life too? As I mentioned in my first story, I was in depression. I had lost everything. I was free, the kind of free I never wanted. That was my story a month ago. Now when I analyse it , it was depressing, troublesome, still and unconscious of the future. Critically it the end of my flight. It was barren, savage. I was heathen in my own house. I think that is the only problem of humans. Humans tend to jump on conclusion so very fast. If you fail in one, then there is no way out. Shoot. Stop. Analyse the larger picture, don’t stop at the basics. People are anyway going to judge you.  A month later I am in a different city. Different people, a different me. Everything has changed, but for what? Encouragement, shelter, experience. This is life, a critical analyses of your own soul and experiences. This is life, a beautiful present to be opened at the perfect time. 

I called my mother , she jostled around the words. Calling out her condition I asked how is there? One word Stuck. 70th day of no work , that was what people tagged the paradise on Earth. Kashmir. 

Unfortunately it was bullets who ruled and people were laid. 

LOVE LOST IN THE FROZEN PARADISE

is

When I look back at the frozen doors
Doors of serenity and hope,
As a lover of HIS shows
I cover myself under a cloak.

I wish my birth to be among them
These fresh doors are so material
I crave for the night
where I ,could praise HIM for the light.

But who has been compared to them,
Comparison doesnt meet their doors even
They were the scholars and depth of ocean
For they were the lovers of lord and no body else.

I am living in the lust,
Where love can buy money
Where body’s are sold for pleasure
And not kept hidden from the public.

Talking about the beloved
I am still longing
For I am a sinner and a seeker
To which realization is still hidden.

But they say what goes around
Comes back too,
I crave for the beloved lord
I crave for one and only HIS love

B’coz all things come in a circle
This shall pass too
Long live the literature lovers
For there will be again love

That is not lust but pure
That is for HIM
And not for world,for there
Will be again love that is lost in paradise.