(wrote the 1st para longggg bk... the rest is a creation by me and my best pal vishal. so its different. its fun tho u shud try... 1 line by each one. different creation. this also happens to be my 1st story with a nonhappy ending. so its a lil sad :P neways hope u guys enjoy... o n i dedicate this to vishal talsania... to you vishy... for always bein thr and managing me. love u)
He opened his eyes and it was a beautiful forest surrounding him. it looked like he was the first one to be there. His eyes saw lush green trees with wild flowers hanging. He was breathing earthy smell with wet wood. The air seemed moist and cool on his skin. It was like he could taste the moisture. He was meditating there. His head and heart were peaceful. All his senses were at their pleasant best. He slowly got up to move near the constant, soft music in his ears it seemed to be coming from near by. It was a water fall. He moved the bushes and slowly moved as if he was floating. As he went closer with every step the music became clearer and smoother.
He was moving towards the fall. He could feel the water droplets on his face. He was moving towards the water his feet almost touching the water. Suddenly, he saw a girl emerge out of water. High cheek bones, long hair adorning her curved waistline, deep black eyes going perfectly well with her dusky complexion and coat of water droplets all over her body. She was the most beautiful angel he’d seen. And she was looking straight into his eyes. As if looking into his heart. She was walking towards him. She came closer and closer with every beat. Closer, closer, closer he could feel her icy breath on his face now. And she walked through him. As if he was thin air. He felt chilled icy chilled puff of breeze. As she went past.
He looked behind to see who it was and he saw no one. And his shirt was wet with water stains. and as he wondered, the music grew stronger. It was almost enticing him now. Seducing him towards the beat. It was all around him now. It was evading his soul. Suddenly it stopped. And he fell unconscious on the ground faintly seeing the image of the angel he saw before.
He woke up in his familiar bed. And faintly through his sleepish eyes he saw Zheel coming out of the bathroom, glowing and fresh of a warm bath. He thought to him self. She was nothing like the angel he’d seen back then. She just moved without a glance at him. And the beat was lost.
Who was that girl in his dreams then, someone so familiar and yet unknown. Someone with whom, he felt he’s spent a lifetime with. But it wasn’t his wife. Someone, whose face now he cud barely remember, but whose icy touch was still very vividly fresh in his memory.
He got up.... to continue with his morning routine. But this question not leaving his mind not even for a moment. Now he looked in the mirror. Just staring. And he decided. Decided to live his every moment and share his life and non existent love with the woman who never understood his dreams.
5 comments:
Miss Jhaveri, i want to say a lot of things. but it appears that i can't. maybe i don't know the reason behind my inability. maybe i do.
you seem to have not only a good thinking brain, but also a rare gift that i am sure so very few have pointed out to you before. it's your imagination. and do you know exactly where you go different? you mix imagination with your thoughts. not with your feelings. that brings out the writer in you. not the poet.
it seems that you are very much self-motivated. and it seems that you fight yourself everytime you sit down to write. you claim to be weird. we all claim to be different. it's no crime. but you know what? you ARE weird. and i love to find people who are weird. fantasy is not synonymous with reality. but maybe, some of us still living, love to believe it that way. that they ARE synonymous. it feels good. that the amount of sensitivity we expected from real life... is actually resulting at least in fantasy!! else there was no reasons to live this life. Reality is not only boring.
..it is unnecessary.
[:)]
your answers:
"suggestions":
treat yourself as somebody whose write-ups has some least importance! no problems if no one comments. we, writers, do not write to get comments.
i hope to see your sentences begin with capitals, in your next post! we all have the right to overlook ourselves. but not our writings. if we ourselves do not respect the things we write, in a proper manner, ..we can't expect others to do the same!
keep honing the brilliant imagination you have. and promote your blog. through orkut. through mails. whichever suits you. only to get feedbacks from a hundred people. it will help you to grow fast.
"why i hate love":
because it reminds me everytime i fail, ..that life was never a storybook having a perfect ending! ..that life was not fantasy. i would have dearly wanted life to be one! [:)]
"why i dedicated my latest post to so many girls":
oh, it's nothing. it's just this that they remain in one group in the college! and when you mention one's name, ..those of the others get automatically involved! [:)]
finally:
i will be waiting for your next post. inform me through orkut![:)]
oh yes. sorry. i forgot.
if you can, and if you have already not read them, ..i suggest you to read:
1. Franz Kafka (German writer, if i am not wrong! [:)]). Kafka, believe me, will do you and your writing a world of good!
2. Marquez.
ahem ahem.. finally an unhappy ending :D I don't know why but i just love stories with unhappy endings. Maybe because they leave you longing for something more, there is such a strong feeling of incompleteness.
I liked the story, the concept was nice but i felt that it could have been executed better.
A good one no doubt.
P.S: I think you have found a new fan
P.P.S: and I ain't talking about me :D
@rj:
P.P.P.S:
fan? [:)] well! [:)]
any comments, Miss Jhaveri?
[:)]
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