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The Last Post

I started this blog an year ago, after I had closed down the one on Blogspot (Que Sera Sera: Life of a Desi Burger). A lot has changed since then, I have a whole lot of new friends in college, I am now engaged, I have two jobs and am a lot more richer than I was before now.
This place became a hide-out for me. I enjoy writing, hell, I want to make a career out of it. And then there was the added plus of dropping all my thoughts on someone who is there whenever I need to vent. But I now have my mom for that, we’re closer than ever. I have finally found that I can talk to her about anything and everything.

My writing these days has become intensely personal, not fit to put up where everyone can read it. So I have decided to close this blog down. My poetry will remain in my diary from now on, I don’t think anyone would mind though.

I’m sorry if I seem to be incoherent. I’m just scared of what life has in store for me and I don’t know how I’ll do as time goes on.

So I leave you all with a heavy heart, here’s the last poem that I wrote (a day before Eid, for some reason I haven’t been able to write after then.)

The dead girl stood smiling

She didn’t hear me call

so I went to see what she

 

held in her hand.

She was smoke,

mixing with the wisps

from the candle between us.

 

She was dead,

a dream, my silent

dream.

 

Yet the note she left me

was all too real.

 

It said, “You

are dead, no you

aren’t alive.

You are smoke

 

caught in an undying storm.

You, my dead girl,

will you stay with me

till I am dead too?”

 

I looked at the dead girl,

at the frozen smile,

then looked at my hand.

 

Smoke, smoke

The flame from the candle

burned right through.

 

The wispy smoke

mixed with me.

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Old post. But this is so me right now.

The Secret Burrow

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Darling

“The knife, be careful. Darling, No!”

My latest six word story. What do you think happened there? Drop your views in the comment section, we’ll see who got closest to what I imagined.

This will be fun.

Also, I’m obsessed with the word ‘Darling’ these days.

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The Rising Sun Experience – Day 5

Painting by Umar Rehman

Umar has borderline cerebral palsy. He can’t talk, he can’t walk, he can’t even move his limbs properly. But he made the painting above, without any kind of assistance what so ever. And the ones below too.

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Exams and Confusion

I have a Press History exam tomorrow whose notes require my attention. I refuse. I don’t want to study at the moment and I wish this semester will just die an early death. (It’s real expiry date is on the 31st of May).

I’ve been having weird dreams lately, and they focus on this one particular person. That one particular person, in my dream, was hanging out with my friends in college. Why would that one particular person be doing that? In another, that one particular person went out shopping with me. I don’t want that one particular person coming in any other dreams. It confuses me.

And, as you might have noticed, this blog now has a new name. I like this one. Do you?

 

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Tell Me All Your Secrets

Tell me all your secrets

Lie with a solemn face

Lie with sad eyes under sleep-heavy lids.

Make up those secrets you wish you had.

Tell me all those that weren’t yours to start with.

Tell me love.

Tell me hate.

Tell me the Earth was flat when you first learned to walk,

Turned round just so I could fall

After every step taken to get to you.

Tell me secrets, big and small.

About her.

About him.

About yourself and I.

Tell me all you have.

Tell me what you never were,

What you show,

What you are.

Tell me all your secrets.

Tell me all you hide

Even from yourself.

 

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