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. 

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Love to my beloved’s !

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It stands erect,straight
Beauty personified
But it grows old too
Like the man with the spectacles

I’m talking about
The chinar
To which my home is sparkled
It is like the young me
In autumn it sets that example.

But it also fades away
like my parents and I would
This is the world’s story
Where everything that goes
Around comes back.

They set for the journey
To there dreams
But leaving their
Old one’s alone.

They cry inside but
Never return back,for
They want to learn more.
Family is broken

Parents are shattered,
But these children make
A loud cry amidst the stars
When they shine

They go back to their parents
Repenting about their act
I was sitting on a bench
Beside the brave chinar.

Witnessing the story of the
Separation of kids
Tears flowed and I cursed
I had too left
But today i want to tell

My icons the tale of love
Dear,you are my heroes
Not less than any superhero
I am the one who escaped

I am the one who broke
But my deeds payed
Though leaving you alone
You’re my infinite lord

Ill be back
Back with the treasure
I would let you fly
Dont grow old till then ,I would be back with your love..

(#a tribute to my parents for letting me enjoy the every miracle of life, and a tribute to say that I LOVE YOU )